Playing House
by Bookworm045
Summary: It's just months after the war and Hermione is returning to Hogwarts without Harry and Ron. Between the corrupt ministry, balancing new friendships as well as old enemies, and struggling to survive the insane new professor, this year won't be boring.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, just in case, this starts a few months after the war. Everyone's gone back to school except the dead and Harry and Ron and those on the run, etc. We'll see how this goes, yeah? All of the events in DH happened except the 'nineteen years later'. Probably.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

"Welcome, welcome," Professor McGonagall said, her voice slightly more distant than usual, but a smile on her face anyway as she spoke to us all. "It is so good to see you all back in the halls of Hogwarts. For those of us who are new here, welcome, and those of us who are returning, welcome back."

She looked around at the hall, far emptier than I'd ever seen it, before continuing. "This year, we were not sure if Hogwarts would be reopened. Too much pain and despair has taken place far too recently. But the professors and I all agreed that we would keep the school open, if for nothing more, to try and give you a bit more organization in your lives. We decided that if but one pupil wanted to practice the art of magic, we would make sure that that pupil would learn."

Next to me, Ginny shifted. The entire hall was silent, and mildly uneasy at the dark topic we were discussing. My mind flashed to Harry and Ron, who'd decided that they could do without their last year of schooling. They'd jumped right into the Auror Academy, and were probably being tested much harder than NEWTs would be.

"I have a couple announcements," McGonagall continued after a few more seconds of silence, "But they can wait until after you have eaten." She gave us a warm smile that was obviously meant to lift the rest of the dreary atmosphere that had settled over Hogwarts like an aura, and the tables were magically filled with food of every sort, the sadness fading slightly as people began their conversations and their eating.

"Hey, Hermione," Ginny said, grabbing a slice of bread and holding it flat on her palm, unwilling to put it on her plate lest it touch any of her neatly organized food groups, "Will you pass me the butter?**"**

I nodded, and, with a pointed eye-roll at her unwillingness to let any of her foods touch any others, gave her the butter tray, chewing my chicken all the while.

"You know, Gin," I began after I'd swallowed, "The food gets all mixed up in your stomach anyway."

She poked her tongue out at me, laughing, but not saying anything more as she took a large bite of her buttered bread, careful to not let any of the butter get on her face. "Yes, 'Mione," She said, laughing slightly, "I know."

We continued like that, light banter that varied from my classes –all whatever I'd wanted since all of my needed classes were already done (_"Why would you come back if you already finished your classes?"_), to my outfits (_"Honestly, they're so drab. You should change it up a bit this year._"), to Ron (_"I'm actually kind of glad you're not dating my brother anymore._"). We caught up with the few Gryffindors in sixth and seventh years who'd returned, Neville, Seamus, and Dean were some of them. Lavender and Parvati were nearby, but they didn't really pay us much mind as we joked about. Luna came by after a few minutes of her eating at the Ravenclaw table, teaching the new first years all about Wrackspurts and Nargles.

"Ugh," Ginny groaned some twenty minutes later, finally sitting back and putting her hands on her stomach. "I think I have a food baby."

I snorted, having finished long before, in efforts to avoid the stomachache that came with eating six helpings of treacle tart. "Maybe you should have stopped at your fifth." I offered, trying my best to keep my laughter at my best friend to a minimum.

"Or your third," Seamus offered lightly, "Since you also had three brownies and a slice of pie."

"I like food, okay?" Ginny said, her defensive tone half amused, half annoyed. "I may not eat like my brothers, but I eat as much as them. Sometimes."

"Ginny," I said patronizingly, "Just admit you overate."

"Fine," She muttered bitterly, "I overate. A lot."

"It must be the Gillytweets," Luna said dreamily, "They cause you to feel far hungrier than you are.

Ginny and I nodded seriously.

"Of course, Luna." she said, "How could I not have thought of that?"

The boys looked at each other, bewildered that we were agreeing with her. They didn't understand. Sometimes, it was just easier to agree with Luna, to let her continue to live in her own little oblivious world, too well protected by her dreams and imaginary creatures to ever get hurt.

There didn't need to be any more pain.

It wasn't much later until McGonagall had stood up once more, looking mildly pleased at how quickly everyone had quieted down. She smiled slightly and began slowly. "This year, the rules stay similar to those of before. Curfew is 10:30 at night Sunday through Thursday, 11:30 at night on Fridays and Saturdays. All Weasley Wizarding Wheezes products have officially been re-banned by Mr Filch, so if you possess any, I advise you to not get caught. The Forbidden Forest is –yes –still forbidden, to visit it will earn you severe punishment. Do not approach the Whomping Willow. Quidditch _is_being continued, the captains are as follows: Ginny Weasley from Gryffindor, Grant Holburry from Hufflepuff, Aster McLaggen from Ravenclaw, and Draco Malfoy of Slytherin." There was a polite applause. Ginny looked smug.

"Looks like you're the only girl captain, Gin," Dean said, sniggering at the relieved looks that crossed the faces of the three other captains as they glanced at her.

McGonagall cleared her throat and all noise ceased once more. "Please see the captain of _your_house if you would like to try out for the team. All sixth and seventh years, there is a mandatory…meeting, so to speak, directly after breakfast tomorrow morning in here. There are no Heads or Prefects this year; too few students. I believe that is all."

There was a quiet murmur at that information.

While being selected as Head Girl would have been nice, it cut into my study time far too much.

"Thank _Merlin_I'm not a Prefect," Ginny muttered, and I laughed.

"I bid you all goodnight," McGonagall continued after a moment. "No lollygagging in the corridors. You are dismissed."

Ginny and I did not move with the rest of the students, unwilling to be trampled in their haste to get to their beds. Luna disappeared, muttering something about showing the new Ravenclaw first years where the tower was –no one else would do it. The boys had already left, Neville awkwardly attempting to get the new Gryffindor first years to follow him to our tower.

"It's weird being here without Harry and Ron," Ginny mused absentmindedly and I snorted.

"You?" I asked her, "What about me? You're an ickle sixth year. I have to go through classes without them now."

Ginny merely rolled her eyes, too proud to admit me right.

We finally got up off of our bench, noticing that the last of the students were filing out of the doors a little ways away.

"I wonder what the mandatory meeting will be about," She said as we began our trek through the now-deserted school. I nodded in agreement, thinking about it

"It's a surprise," I said slowly," And it has something to do with unity."

"How do you figure that?" Ginny asked and I shrugged.

"It's what? Four months since the war ended?" She nodded in confirmation. "The professors need us to know that, not only do we forgive the Slytherins, but remind us that school unity was really all that kept us alive during the final battle.

Ginny stared at me and I shrugged again.

"That's my take on it, at least," I told her and her eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Well whatever it is," she said after a few seconds of considering my words, "I doubt we'll like it."

"What makes you say that?" I asked curiously.

"I've got a haunch," was all she said.

"Professor?" I asked McGonagall as she passed the Gryffindor table early in the morning, giving the younger kids their schedules. "What's the meeting going to be about?"

She looked at me, mildly amused. "I would love to tell you Miss Granger, but that would be too obvious a show favoritism."

I pouted slightly.

"But it does have something to do with your classes, and school unity." She offered.

"I already gathered that," I muttered, "We have yet to get schedules, and unity is going to be emphasized forever now."

She gave another half smile before continuing along the table to the nearest group of fifth years. The boys and Ginny looked at me.

"You're officially the only one who can prod that much without getting snapped at," Seamus informed me and I shrugged good-naturedly.

"I expected more information."

"Well the meeting is in ten minutes," Neville reported, checking his watch. "We'll find out then."

"Ahh, Neville," Ginny said, smiling slightly as she ruffled his hair playfully, "But we want to know _now_."

He rolled his eyes at us and I laughed, taking another bite of my toast.

"It's going to be something bad," Ginny muttered, "Something really bad."

"It will probably concern that woman," Luna said, sliding in next to me and pointing rather obviously at an unfamiliar woman sitting at the staff table, talking quietly with Professor McGonagall. "Who is she?"

We all looked at each other before shrugging, none of us knowing the answer.

"I feel like something really horrible is going to happen," Ginny said again, looking around before her eyes landed on me. "Something really bad."

I patted her back a couple of times. "It can't be that bad, Gin, we already killed Voldemort."

"Not like that," She murmured, closing her eyes. "But bad."

Neville was the only one who looked mildly freaked. Dean and Seamus just continued forking pancakes into their mouths.

The hall was rapidly emptying as students got up to go to their classes, until it was just the sixth and seventh years that were sitting down at the tables.

When the hall was devoid of the younger kids, McGonagall looked around at us all.

"Now the Ministry does not wish for me to share with you the fact that they are behind this, but I believe you have the right to know that the other professors and I did not come up with this…situation. We did, however, find the person best suited for this job in hopes that it will make the experience more enjoyable." She sighed. "For this year only –it is an experiment –Muggle Studies is cancelled for sixth and seventh years. In its place, however, is a Ministry-made-mandatory class."

There was a murmur of annoyed confusion from all for houses. I inwardly smirked at the irony of us being united to fight against something designed to unite us.

"Silence," McGonagall's patient voice rang through the Hall, and she did not look much happier about this than we were. "The ministry believes that if we unite the school and teach our students about trust and love and healthy relationships with your partner and any potential children, we will greatly reduce Death Eater children, or even a new Voldemort in the future."

I had to be the only one who didn't glance at the Slytherin table at the mention of Death Eater children. I was too pre-occupied with staring at our new professor who looked but my age –nineteen.

I refuse to be taught by someone is my age. There is no sense of authority.

"Quiet down," McGonagall snapped once more, "You might not like this idea, but I assure you, there is nothing, I, we, or you can do about it, so act your age and take it in stride."

With that, she turned and walked through one of the doors behind the staff table, leaving us all alone in the hall, half wondering where the new professor had gone.

"How old do you reckon she is?" Dean asked us.

"Nineteen," I said bluntly, "She looks no older than me."

Ginny and Seamus nodded in agreement.

"I'd say twenty," Neville mused, "They wouldn't hire a professor our age –Hermione may be the only nineteen year old now, but this year, all of the seventh years are meant to turn nineteen as well."

"Twenty three years, four months, and two days old," Luna said, her voice just as distant as usual, though her answer was oddly precise.

We stared at her for a moment and she smiled serenely at us all, twirling her wand absentmindedly.

"I don't think this is the worst part," Ginny muttered to me after a moment, "Feels like it's gonna get worse."

"So optimistic," I murmured back, hiding my worry well. Ginny had been right once already. Who's to say she won't be right again?

"Professor," I began leadingly in Transfiguration as she passed by mine and Neville's desk to praise me on my canary-turned-bucket and shake her head at Neville's feathered bucket with a small smile on her face.

She raised her eyebrows to have me continue.

"This ministry approved class. . ." I continued and her smile widened as she shook her head at me.

"Miss Granger, I will not be disclosing any more information to you."

"But _Professor_!" I said, my voice slightly pouty sounding.

"_No_, Miss Granger, that wouldn't be fair to the others."

"How _old_is the new professor? She looks my age."

Urgh, I sound so disdainful.

"She's twenty three years old, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall told me, "We would not think of hiring a professor who was the same age as our eldest student."

Neville hid a smile at the fact that Luna'd been right, and poked his feathery bucket, jumping when it squawked indignantly.

"Well that seems to be the only good thing about this situation," I muttered and she just shook her head, the smile never leaving.

I watched with a scowl on my face as she walked away, moving towards the next group of students who'd had their spells go horribly wrong.

"Hermione," Neville said, shaking his head, "Our class is third hour. We'll know then."

"I want to know _now_, Neville," I snapped and he blinked before chuckling.

"What?" I hissed at him.

"You sound like someone we don't like too much. . ."He said quietly, poking his bucket again before rolling his eyes as it protested once more.

I rolled my eyes dismissively. "Who do I sound like then?"

"A certain Slytherin. . ."

"_Neville_, spit it out, dammit!" I exclaimed, thumping my fist on the desk and he laughed at me.

"Boy, 'Mione, you're kind of. . ._irritable_today," He said, trying to change the subject.

"Do _not_ change the subject, Neville Longbottom, I was up all night because _someone_needed a huge favor that took up all of my sleep."

"Who's this someone?" Neville asked me curiously and I glared at him.

"Okay, fine," He said quickly, "The certain Slytherin whose spirit seems to be inhabiting your body today is Malfoy."

Yes, I did fall out of my chair as well.

"Neville Frank Longbottom, don't you dare ever say that to me again," I hissed as I pulled myself back onto the dumb stool while he snickered at me. "I am _so_not in a good mood as it is and here you are insulting me!"

"It wasn't an insult, 'Mione," He said good-naturedly, ignoring the fact that I'd used the Full Name.

"How was telling me that I'm acting like _Malfoy_not going to be taken as an insult?" I asked him as I flicked my wand and let my bucket return to its canary form and watched with mild amusement as the canary fluttered around innocently.

"Well. . ." Neville said, making a face at that. "They're supposed to have changed, right?"

I snorted, but said nothing more on the matter. Oh yes, they're supposed to have changed, alright.

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><p><strong>Hey! So I'm new here, and I felt like posting this now instead of waiting three months to get settled in like my other writing sites that I'm on. Thanks so much if you're still reading up to here, and if you actually like it, never fear, there is plenty more coming. If someone would be a doll and tell me what sort of lengths my chapters would be preferred to be, and if you would all be dolls and tell me where I need to improve, we could start a beautiful author-reader relationship so I keep you happy and my writing gets better.<strong>

**Oh, also, fair warning-I don't really plan out my stories before I plunge into the joy of writing them, so I have no guarantees as to what will happen. After a while, my characters sort of have minds of their own, and even if I want them to do something, they just don't listen. Selfish characters.**

**Huggles! xx :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I just realized I didn't put a disclaimer on the other chapter. I don't own Harry Potter. Obviously. Also, if someone would like to tell me how to respond to reviews, that would be fabulous, because I love responding to reviews. :)  
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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

"I have a really bad feeling about this," Ginny murmured, clutching onto my arm tightly as all of us sixth and seventh years streamed towards the old Muggle Studies classroom. "This thing is going to be really weird. And will take a _lot_ of getting used to."

"I mean," I said after a second of taking in her frazzled look, "How bad could it possibly be?"

"_I can't believe you would say that!_" Ginny hissed hysterically and I felt my own eyes widen at the frantic look on her face. She looked a bit. . .crazed, to tell the truth.

"Whoa, the Weaslette is upset." a snide voice said, sounding amused. And snide. "Everyone proceed with caution."

"Blaise," I said pleasantly, knowing the dark-toned boy would be there with his git of a best mate even without looking away from Ginny who was still staring at me with terrified eyes. "Tell him to be nice."

I slung an arm across Ginny's shoulder protectively and finally faced the pair of Slytherins who were leading the rest of the Slytherins. Malfoy was openly gaping at his friend.

"I've told him millions of times, 'Mione," Blaise responded, rolling his eyes at the blonde but otherwise showing no indication that he even noticed that Malfoy was making an idiot out of himself. "He never really seems to listen."

"Since when are you on first name basis with _Granger_?" Malfoy finally got out, sounding surprisingly collected compared to the expression of bewilderment that still was on his face.

"You mean he doesn't know?" Blaise asked me disbelievingly and I felt my cheeks flush slightly.

"I figured it would be better off if he wasn't informed."

"But I –I mean, you did –you did and then he and. . .and _now_. . ." Blaise trailed off, his face just as bewildered as Malfoys now.

"It's almost worth you not telling Malfoy to see Blaise like this," Ginny commented, finally having composed herself, though I could still see the worry in her eyes. I inwardly laughed –our voices sounded every bit as coolly professional as the Slytherins spoke.

"What could you _possibly_ be keeping from me that both Weaslette and Granger are in on?" Malfoy demanded of his friend, but I shot Blaise a warning look before leading Ginny into the classroom that had clearly been expanded to keep sixty or so students in it comfortably.

"_What do you mean you're not going to tell me?_" I heard as I settled myself down next to Ginny right in the center of the small group of male Gryffindors in my year. Luna soon made her way over, seating herself on my lap casually and I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to shove her off.

"Luna," Ginny said, snickering, "There are other seats."

"But none of them are nearby you two. And Dean and Seamus and Neville are already in the seats around."

I rolled my eyes, but was unable to keep a smile off my face at her simplistic response.

"But Hermione's not a chair."

"She should be," Luna said dreamily, staring intently at a corner near the professor's desk, "She's quite comfortable." And Ginny and I giggled away as Luna muttered about Himalas (evidently pronounced with a long 'i').

It wasn't long later when the last of the students trickled in, and I watched as the door closed of its own accord. The room was silent and we were all looking awkwardly at each other. Most professor's didn't tend to magically lock their students in a room with each other and even fewer were late for their lesson.

It was twenty minutes into the lesson and I was seriously considering just getting up and leaving.

I didn't even _have_ to be here. Being part of the Golden Trio had its perks –people were willing to give me jobs without my NEWTs, saying that I'd done far more than NEWTs could test for. Which I had, but I didn't want a job for my fame, I wanted a job because I'd earned it.

Ginny let out a loud sigh of annoyance and I caught the glare she was sending anyone who looked at her the wrong way.

Moving my hand to cover my mouth, I yawned hugely into it and blinked sleepily –I'd had far too little sleep yesterday what with my work in the ministry that had lasted very late into the night. We were trying to keep my name on the case hushed up, so it had to happen after hours.

"Not enough sleep, 'Mione?" Ginny asked wickedly, her voice far louder than it needed to be, "Did Malfoy keep you up late?"

I could feel curious and disbelieving eyes on us and Luna was snickering away into her palm as I glared viciously at my best friend.

"That is _so_ the last time I tell you anything, Gin," I hissed under my breath before raising my voice. "Nothing to do with Malfoy at all. Blaise can attest to that." I knew that redirecting the rumors wasn't as good as just quelling them immediately, but it wasn't like I could just go parroting the fact that I'd been at the ministry after hours around –it would cause too many questions and raise too many eyebrows.

I silently dared Blaise to say anything against me and the git's mouth slowly closed once more, but the amusement didn't leave his face.

"It's true," He said instead, "I know _exactly _where 'Mione was last night." And the bastard had the gall to wiggle his eyebrows, an idiotic grin on his face, his tongue half out of his mouth to complete the look.

"Oh, _Merlin_, Blaise, tell me you're not shacking up with Granger." Malfoy moaned, dropping his head onto his arms against the table in front of him.

"Why? Jealous, Draco?"

"You. Are. An. _Idiot_." I hissed at the dark-haired bloke from across the room. "An. _Absolute. Bloody. Idiot."_

His grin didn't falter though, but his tongue did return to its place inside his mouth.

"It's okay, 'Mione, the world needs to know."

"There's nothing to know!" I snapped, far too tired to even humor him. "Nothing!"

"But, 'Mione!" He protested dramatically, "I _love_ you! How could you do this to me?"

"I give up." I muttered weakly, slapping a hand to my face and letting it drop onto Luna's shoulder where she patted my head comfortingly. Ginny was rubbing my back, but I could hear the both of them snickering at the appalled silence that was emanating throughout the classroom.

"Why did I even decide to _become_ friends with Zabini?" I moaned quietly, my voice muffled. "I don't have enough patience for this."

"Just be glad Ron isn't here," Ginny soothed, "he'd have attacked Blaise for insinuating anything, even if he was joking, he'd have attacked Malfoy for being Malfoy, he'd have started yelling at you and then you'd have attacked him."

"You're a really crap comforter," I commented, raising my face from Luna's shoulder and she let out her tinkling laugh. "Luna, if you're going to continue to sit on my lap, you should shift, I can feel the pins and needles in my leg –too much pressure on one. Balance yourself out."

"I don't do the comforting," Ginny said defensively, "I do the make-sure-Ron-isn't-dead. I don't think you've once cried about your relationship with Ron since sixth year when he was with _Lav Lav_ and that was to Harry and only one time and you _still_ had a chance to attack him with birds." Ginny's voice was wondering.

Luna indeed shifted her weight on my lap, scooting closer to me so that she was perfectly balanced on my lap.

"Blaise, come here for a moment," I called after a moment more of waiting for this dismal professor to show up (she didn't). "I need to speak with you for a few seconds."

There was some snickering from the Slytherins; obviously none of them really believed that we were well and truly on talking terms, and I couldn't help the smirk that curled my lips as they gaped at him openly as he shrugged and started on over immediately after my request.

"You called, my dearest 'Mione?" He said, his voice full of sweet.

"Cut the crap, Zabini," I said, rolling my eyes, but unable to keep the grin from touching the corners of my mouth. Ginny flicked her wand and suddenly everyone in the room was Muffaliato-ed bar herself, Blaise, Luna, and myself.

"What did you want then?" He asked, settling himself comfortably on the table in front of the three of us, crossing his legs and leaning forward.

"I need more evidence," I said in a low voice, not caring that we had Muffaliato up. Spells could be faulty. "The Wizengamot is not accepting the argument I've put together thus far."

All traces of humor vanished from their faces. Somber expressions met my level gaze and I nodded twice, grazing my lip with my teeth.

"But you have every piece of evidence there is. There is _nothing_ pointing against them," Blaise said, his voice low as well.

I shook my head. "There's a whole lot against them, as you very well know, Blaise Zabini. And we, Harry and I, think that the ministry is looking for anything and everything to declare a guilty verdict. Any _single_ mess up in even my wording, they could be sentenced to life in Azkaban."

"You can't mess up, 'Mione," Blaise said and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Oh, gosh, darnit, Blaise, now that you've told me that, all of my plans are ruined."

He sighed, running his palm across his face. Next to me, Ginny looked immensely worried, and on my lap, Luna had her eyebrow furrowed in thought.

"Look, you know that's not what I meant."

"It would do you some good to trust me," I retorted, "If I were planning on fucking this up for them, I'd have done it ages ago. Not _now_, when I've gotten myself in this deep."

"I _do_ trust you," He insisted. "But they're like my family –they _are_ my family, if we wanted to be technical about it. I don't want to see them in Azkaban for this –it's completely unfair."

"But Blaise," Ginny said quietly, looking at him with her wide, worried eyes. She was always worried these days after the war. Seeing Fred die, Colin, Remus and Dora die, seeing _Harry_'s dead body, it'd spooked her more than she would like to admit. "Don't you know? The ministry is completely unfair."

"She ditched our class!" I exclaimed indignantly, pacing around McGonagall's office. "I hate to sound like some uppity pureblood, but I have better things to do than sit in a professor-less classroom for an hour and a half."

McGonagall merely watched me through her slim-framed glasses that rested on her nose, before looking back down at whatever was in front of her.

"The ministry requires more evidence," I confessed after a second of deciding I was getting nowhere with my rant, "They're looking for everything possible to declare the verdict guilty, and I refuse to let that happen, if not because they're innocent, then because I have too much bloody pride to let that vile woman win over me in this. Why is she not out of the ministry?"

"Dolores?" McGonagall questioned, "She's still there?"

"Yes!" I insisted, "And after every _single_ time I go over there and give more evidence and more testimonies and more _everything_, she gives me this smug look like she already _expects_ the ministry to announce them guilty."

McGonagall sighed, finally returning her attention to me permanently. "You are stressing too much, Miss Granger," She said quietly, and I could see the portraits of previous head masters and head mistresses nodding in agreement.

"I've got fifteen days before they announce the verdict. They refuse any more time expansions. After the verdict, the sentence will be Azkaban for life, but in ten years, they have consented to reopen the case in ten years. If they're found guilty."

"If you were not in school," Professor McGonagall began leadingly and I waved her off.

"I'm here because I wish to be. I can manage this –I will _not_ let them go to prison if it kills me."

She sighed, but nodded once. "The library is open to you all hours of the day for a quiet space to collect data."

I smiled vaguely at her before leaving the office, gliding quickly down the marble stairs and past the gargoyles, meeting Luna, Ginny, and Blaise at the bottom.

"I can only be around for so long," Blaise confessed, and Ginny nodded in agreement.

"I know, you've got to go comfort your sulking friend," I told him, shrugging, "And _you've_ got to go sneak out of the castle for your date with Harry, and _you_," I said, pointing to Luna, "have got to get together with someone."

"Says the one who hasn't had a proper date in years," Luna retorted back, her voice dreamy.

"I just broke up with Ron!" I exclaimed indignantly, "Like a month ago. That is not _years_."

"Oh, _please_, Hermione, you and Ron didn't ever do anything proper –never could agree with anything to do. Hanging around my house does not count as a date." Ginny rolled her eyes at me and I stuck my tongue out at her before opening the massive doors to the library and leading them immediately to the far back, where it was dim and quiet and dusty and no one was known to ever go there.

We settled down at one of the tables and I pulled out a neat folder containing everything we'd gotten thus far. It was quite full, and Luna helped me spread every sheet and scrap out across the huge table.

"This is what we've got so far," I said unnecessarily, gesturing towards it, before placing a few spells around us that would prevent anyone from hearing what we were saying and getting within six feet of any one part of this table.

They were each examining various things, from pictures to maps to signed notes to diary entries to legal documents.

"This is amazing," Luna commented, and Blaise and Ginny made vague noises of agreement, pouring over a family tree that spanned centuries.

"There's a lot of interbreeding in this," Ginny muttered, wrinkling her nose in disgust, but laughing anyway.

"Where did you even get some of this stuff?" Blaise asked me curiously.

"The ministry, the manor, previous manors, various people." I shrugged. "Those vials over there in the middle are memories."

"If I ever commit murder," Blaise said, examining the label of one of the older vials, his voice laced with awe, "I want you to represent me in court."

"It's useless though!" I said with frustration, ignoring his joke, "Obviously I'm not good enough if none of this is going to prove them innocent."

"We'll find something, 'Mione," Ginny said soothingly and I bit my lip again, running my fingers across one of the journal entries that was near me. "It just takes time."

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><p><strong>Well, there's chapter two. I sincerely hoped you liked it, and if you have anything at all to say, please tell me in a review! (subtlety is my specialty) Have a beautiful rest of the day, and remember, hippo milk is pink.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Today, we will be attempting –not for the first time this year –to be brewing Amortentia. Now does anyone remember from two years previous, what this is?"

I looked flatly at Slughorn as he looked at me expectantly. After a moment (and a prod from Blaise, who'd consented to being my table mate after I'd whined about not having anyone to pair off with since Harry and Ron were out of school and Ginny and Luna weren't in the class), I thrust my hand into the air half-heartedly. No one else remembers? Pity.

"The most powerful love potion in the world, Professor," I said sweetly, "Though it does not, in fact, cause love; it causes powerful addiction, infatuation, or obsession. It smells differently to every being, depending on who they are attracted to. Possibly the most powerful potion in the world, for one will do anything to save those they. . ." I trailed off, a small smile growing my face. I felt Blaise's curious eyes on me, and Slughorn's smile faltered slightly and he returned his gaze to me. "To save those they love." I finished after a moment.

"Fifteen points to Gryffindor," Slughorn praised before turning back to the class to remind us to not drink our potions –if they were brewed incorrectly, we could drop dead, if they were brewed correctly, we'd be in love with the first person of the opposite gender we set eyes on.

"Why does it feel as if you've just had the greatest idea ever?" Blaise asked me in a low voice and I smirked at him.

"Because I did."

"Well, go on then."

"I'm not sharing right now," I told him, unable to keep the growing smirk off my face as he looked at me, mildly outraged and incredibly offended.

"But _why_?" He asked, the both of us ignoring the fact that everyone else had already begun, "It has to do with—"

"Yes, it does," I cut him off before he said anything more, "But I don't want to tell you until I know for sure that it will work. This might be the breaking point."

"Miss Granger, Mr Zabini," Slughorn said, his voice too happy-sounding to fit the faux-disappointment that was on his face, "As pleased as I am that the Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses seem to be uniting, I would advise you to get to work."

"Of course, Professor," I responded, my trademark suck-up voice on, "I am _so_ terribly sorry for the delay." I let an ashamed look grace my features and Slughorn chuckled.

"Just get to work, Miss Granger," He said kindly before ambling on to the next station.

"Suck-up," Blaise threw at me as he got up and went to go collect the required ingredients. I just let the smirk unfold on my lips once more and he rolled his eyes.

"Look, I understand that I am clearly the better brewer at the present moment," I said when he got back, dumping the armload of ingredients on the table unceremoniously, "So I think I'll tell you what to do and you'll do it."

"As long as I get an O, I'll be happy," He responded and I gasped dramatically.

"Blaise Zabini. Is that the only reason you agreed to being my partner?"

"Well that and your stunningly good looks," He responded, grinning wolfishly and I rolled my eyes at him, slapping his arm dismissively.

"You're an idiot," I told him bluntly, grinding the fairy wings with my pestle and letting them stew at the bottom of the cauldron with the strand of unicorn hair and the sixteen drops of moonbean juice. "Cut this into thirteen even pieces."

It was seven minutes 'til the end of the class when our potion was bubbling in the cauldron, a gorgeous pearl sheen and I felt immediately relaxed as the fumes swam around me. Beside me, Blaise had a strange look on his face and he kept glancing over at the Slytherin side of the room.

"What do you smell?" he finally asked and I sighed, smiling slightly.

"New parchment, freshly mown grass and cinnamon."

"Not spearmint?" he queried and I shrugged. I guess Ron wasn't my One anymore.

"You?"

"Rain, broom polish, and strawberries." He rattled off, glancing once more in the back of the classroom as Slughorn finally began making his way over.

"Strawberries?" I asked softly, trying to figure out who smelt like strawberries. Not that I go around smelling people or anything, but if it's someone I know. . .

"Yeah." He said faintly and I let it drop, but was unable to hide a smile. Blaise-under-the-effects-of-Amortentia was adorable. He sounded so in love.

"Miss Granger, Mr Zabini," Slughorn said, beaming at the two of us, "You have finished the potion." he leaned over and sniffed it. "And it is flawless. Thirty points to each of your houses."

I smiled serenely, still unable to feel anything but content as the pinkish silvery fumes swirled around. It seemed they were reaching other students, because movements were slower, and there was the same serene contentedness on all of their expressions.

Abruptly, I felt all of my previous stresses coming crashing down on my shoulders once more as Slughorn put a lid firmly on our cauldron.

"Who smells like cinnamon?" I asked quietly as Slughorn wandered away, "I don't think I know anyone that smells like cinnamon."

"You could have not met your One yet," He considered.

"But this is supposed to show you your One if you've already come into contact, right?"

Blaise shrugged. "You're the smart one—you tell me."

I frowned at him, opening the lid just a bit so I could smell the potion again.

"At least _you_ don't smell like cinnamon," I commented, sniffing him curiously. "That would just be really bad."

"Oi!" Blaise said indignantly, "I am a very suitable One."

"You would be, if you didn't keep glancing at Daphnee Greengrass every few seconds," I commented casually, finally placing a name to the girl he kept looking at.

I bit my lip hard to keep the smile from spilling over my face as Blaise's dark-toned cheeks got darker and redder.

"Look, I'm not judging," I said, before he exploded or something –I'm nearly positive Blaise has never blushed this much in his _life_. "She's gorgeous. And smart and nice, from what I've heard. If you want, I'll even make friends with her and you won't feel guilty about ditching me and Ginny and Luna for your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Blaise muttered, scratching his chin absentmindedly and steeling another glance at Daphnee as if he didn't even realize he was doing it. I left him to it.

A few minutes later, Slughorn was drawing the class to a close, telling us that we'd have another chance to try during our next class. I was out of the classroom in seconds, having packed up early, not letting Blaise deliberate on whether he should walk with me or his Slytherin friends. Catching up with Ginny and Luna in the hall, we made our way to the kitchens after I'd told them with a pointed look that I'd had an idea that could solve some problems.

"A salad, a slice of pizza, and some chicken tacos," I answered the House Elf who'd asked us what we'd like to eat. He smiled and bowed down low before skittering off after telling us to take a seat at one of the house tables. We chose the Ravenclaw one since we almost never eat there anyway, and sat very close together, the three of us whispering rapidly back and forth.

Our food was handed to us, and the poor house elf got a less-than-satisfactory thank-you, but we were wrapped up in my vague idea.

"Do you really think that'll work?" Ginny asked after a while. "I mean, the ministry is obviously very unwilling to let them testify themselves –otherwise there would be less people testifying in their place."

"Is that method even legal?" Luna asked blankly, nibbling at her slice of pizza absentmindedly. "I mean, isn't part of the point of the Wizengamot to _let_ people being charged have chances to defend themselves?"

"But this case, it's different," I explained, my salad pretty ignored, "We're talking about Death Eaters. Most of them were bad until the end—there were far too many witnesses for them to even plead innocent, and they didn't really try."

"But _these_ people," Ginny said, rolling her eyes and poking her taco a few times, "They were good at the end and the circumstances are different."

"So far no one's questioned that they haven't testified yet," Luna said quietly, "People are afraid to question the ministry right now –the war is still fresh in our minds and people think that questions will cause chaos to our fragile ministry."

"But it's not as if the ministry can outright _deny_ the testifies," Ginny continued slowly, "So if we actually get them to testify in front of the entire Wizengamot with Veritaserum, then the court can't deny that they're innocent."

"We need to build up public support," I said after a moment of thinking, "The ministry, they're fine right now, but even after this, if they pronounce these people guilty, and the public knows the entire story, there will be trouble. A lot of it."

"So if the public knows the entire story, the ministry can't declare them guilty," Luna said, smiling slightly, "because they do _not_ want trouble—especially this soon after the war."

"We need to talk to Blaise," Ginny said quickly, scarfing down her last taco in a manner much similar to that of her brothers, and rolling her eyes at my untouched salad. "Take that with you. You are _not_ not eating."

I picked up the porcelain bowl of salad and my fork and led the way out of the kitchens, putting a small bite of lettuce into my mouth as we walked quickly in the direction of the Great Hall.

We immediately made our way to the Slytherin table, earning more than a few disgruntled looks—Blaise's and ours' friendships weren't exactly public before yesterday.

"Blaise, I'm ready to tell you my awesome idea," I said, pulling him half out of his seat on the bench with my free hand. I wasn't really able to get him farther than half out because he was like twice my size and my other hand had a bowl of salad in it.

"No manhandling, woman!" He protested, falling on his bum from my 'manhandling', his legs still hooked over the bench, the collar of his school shirt still in my fist.

"This could be the make-it or break-it point, Zabini," I said dismissively, "And we need your help to figure out exactly how to go about it. Stop whining and let me finish this once and for all so I can get on with my life."

I released his shirt and forked another forkful of food into my mouth, biting into a cherry tomato and smiling slightly as it popped in my mouth, the sweet flavor immediately attacking my taste buds.

"Come _on_, you lazy idiot," Ginny snapped, kicking him in the side when he didn't make any effort to move.

"You know, I get abused a lot by you three," He commented, swinging his legs off the bench and onto the ground before gracefully standing.

"Blaise?" Malfoy asked disbelievingly, "You're not seriously ditching me for _them_?"

"Sorry mate, it's about that secret that I'm not telling you." Blaise said with a small amused smile flitting across his lips as he brushed off his shoulders for invisible dust and patted the fist of fabric on his back until it lay flat once more. "Wrinkling my school shirt," He muttered ruefully, poking his tongue out in my direction.

"How important can this secret that you share with Granger, Weaslette, and Loony be that you're ditching your friends constantly?"

I laughed slightly at the irony—this secret is pretty damn important—before feeling rage well up inside of me.

"Don't _call_ her that, you vile excuse for a boy!" I snapped, my voice cold, stepping half in front of Luna who'd blinked in surprise. She hadn't been called that in ages.

"Call who what?" he asked me, his voice just as cool as mine, "Weaslette? Or Loony?"

"I swear to Merlin, Ferret, if you do not shut your mouth right now, I will forcefully shut it for you—and you can bet your entire family fortune that it will not be opening again." I hissed, fingering my wand as Blaise's grip locked on my upper arm.

"Come on, 'Mione," Blaise pleaded, "My best mate is socially awkward. He doesn't know how to act in the presence of three exquisitely gorgeous women."

Malfoy snorted. "Why do you suck up to them so much, Blaise?" He asked derisively, "They putting out for you?"

Next thing I knew, he was howling in pain, Ginny shaking her fist out next to me, and Pansy was moving closer to him to try and put him right.

"_Look_," I said, my voice coldly sweet as I looked down on him while he clutched his jaw tightly. "Now Luna just has to hit him and we'll all have done it."

And then Blaise was leading us away, and McGonagall was politely ignoring the fact that Ginny'd probably just broken Malfoy's jaw—and telling me the ministry's plan would have shown favoritism. Pfft.

"You Gryffindor girls really have tempers," our Slytherin friend observed. "And _you_, 'Mione, must be a masochist."

"I'm beginning to think that more and more every day" I replied bitterly, stowing my wand back in my back pocket after healing Ginny's bruised knuckles. "They didn't even break, Gin," I said as she moaned slightly about them even after I'd taken the bruising away. "Stop pulling Third-Year-Malfoy."

She poked her tongue out at me, looking heavily insulted and I smirked slightly as Luna giggled.

"You lot use Draco as an insult?" Blaise asked us, looking highly amused at the prospect. "You legitimately get insulted when told that you're being like him?"

"He's a fuckwit," Ginny said darkly, "A spoiled fuckwit."

"I think he just needs a hug," Luna said distantly and we all, Blaise included, stared at her blankly. I know _my_ mouth was a bit ajar.

"Right. . ." Blaise said slowly, slinging his arms around our shoulders, managing to capture both Luna and Ginny with his left, pulling me close with his right. "Now about that new plan?"

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed as thus far, it really does mean the world to me. I hope you enjoyed this installment, and don't forget, moths are unable to fly during an earthquake.<br>PS: Please, please tell me if you've found a mistake. I would like to get any fixed right up. :) Thanks! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"You said you wanted publicity, right?" Luna asked a few days later as we were all in our dumb substitute-for-Muggle-Studies classroom. She was on Ginny's lap this time 'round, and my folder of papers lay on the desk in front of us near Blaise's bum where he'd seated himself. My charms were up and I could hear everything that was going on in the classroom, but they couldn't hear us. "The idea is to get the public on their side?"

"Right. . ." I said slowly, fingering the edges of a family picture that looked entirely too strained while Blaise mumbled to himself the calculations for the ages of people on the tree when they'd died.

"Well," she continued hesitantly, shifting slightly on Ginny's lap, "We could first publish an interview of sorts in my father's magazine. Nearly everyone in all of Britain reads it now—everyone's pretending that they had during the war because it supported Harry."

I looked up from the face in the middle of the picture—it looked so pained and uncomfortable being there—and at Luna who looked uncharacteristically shy at throwing her idea out in the open. "That's _brilliant_, Luna!" I exclaimed while Blaise and Ginny nodded along frantically, "Absolutely one hundred percent brilliant."

"And if it sells well," she added, clearly spurred on by our complete support of this idea, "Other things such as Witch Weekly and the Daily Prophet will buy it—they did for Harry's interview a couple years ago—and then we'll _really_ have gotten the entire British Wizarding World's attention on the matter.

"Oh, Luna," Ginny said, patting the blonde girl's cheek after she pressed a sisterly kiss to it, "That idea is simply wonderful. D'you think they'll go for it, Blaise?"

"They might. . ."Blaise said mysteriously and I rolled my eyes.

"They'll go for it. The interview of _him_, of course, either Blaise'll have to do himself or I'll have to do it under Polyjuice potion, because there is no way he'd answer any of my questions personally, but they'll definitely go for it."

"Luna, write your father and tell him to leave at least six pages of space for this," Ginny said and I leaned over, pressing a sisterly kiss to Luna's other cheek, the four of us beaming at each other like morons.

And she did, right then, pulling out a piece of parchment and scribbling an letter to her father before sliding off of Ginny's lap and going towards the open window, leaning her head out of it and putting two fingers in her mouth, a sharp, high-pitched whistle sounding. A few moments later, a massive eagle owl landed on the window sill and she tied the note to its leg, telling him to take it to Mr Lovegood, and _quickly_.

"Alright," Blaise said, gently taking the picture out of my hands and putting it back in my folder before slipping it into my bag, "Time to stop thinking about this. I think you're going prematurely grey, 'Mione."

I hit him on the leg, laughing in a disbelieving sort of way as Luna slid back on Ginny's lap. "You don't _say_ that to a lady, Zabini!"

He grinned at me, chuckling lightly and took down my spells quickly, blowing a kiss to me. "You know I think you're gorgeous," he said instead of an apology and I rolled my eyes.

"That didn't sound like an 'I'm sorry'," I said, shaking my head, but smiling all the same.

"Love, you should know by now; Slytherins don't really do the whole 'I'm sorry' business."

"That's pathetic," Ginny said and I snorted in agreement.

"Everyone should apologize for their wrongs," Luna said quietly, "No matter how petty they seem at the time. Sometimes they just aren't as small as they look."

I saw Ginny take Luna's hand comfortingly and smiled slightly despite Luna's less-than-cheerful words.

"Is this some kind of joke?" I asked McGonagall later that evening in her office. "Our second class and she missed it again."

The headmistress sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "Miss Granger," she began kindly, "I do not even pretend to understand the methods of a ministry-approved professor. But I assure you, there is probably some sort of reason as to why she keeps missing your classes."

"We used this class period to work on the case," I admitted, "It was good time because it's so hard to get Blaise away from the rest of the Slytherins—most of them don't like us much."

"I've come to the understanding that you've found something useful by your proud tone?"

"We've got to get publicity," I told her quickly, "And Luna has already written to her father about publishing an interview in The Quibbler."

"Forgive me, Miss Granger, but I was under the impression that you were trying to stay _away_ from the limelight."

"Not for me," I clarified, "For _them_. If it is brought to the public's view that they aren't being able to testify for themselves, if the public hears their story, they will most definitely side with them. And then if the ministry _still_ declares them guilty, the public will have an uproar."

"Trapping the ministry in a spot where they have no choice but to declare them innocent?" A familiar snide voice asked and I glanced back to the portrait of Professor Snape hung right next to Dumbledore's smiling one.

"I did mention that I believed we sorted too soon." Dumbledore told Snape contentedly.

"I admit it sounds Slytherin-like," I admitted with a wrinkle of my nose, much to McGonagall's amusement and Snape's not-amusement, "But if I'm going to keep a family of Slytherins out of Azkaban, then why not think as they would?"

Dumbledore beamed. "Miss Granger, if you wish, I will talk to the boy—I imagine you aren't too excited by it."

"Blaise said he would," I said, "But if he can't convince him, then I'll take you up on your offer, professor."

"Blaise?" Snape questioned flatly.

"Zabini," I clarified, unable to keep a hint of condescending out of my voice.

"I am well aware of my students' last names," Snape snapped. "I was merely questioning why you called him Blaise and not Zabini."

"He's my friend now," I told him, "And has been a real help to this."

"You really should spend more time in the office, Severus," McGonagall said sweetly as I got up from my seat, striding out of the room.

I descended the staircase quickly and made the familiar path over to the Great Hall, sliding into the seat across from Ginny and Luna, in between Neville and Dean. Seamus was on Dean's other side, and the whole lot of them were talking rapidly about Quidditch, Luna commenting on the color of the various broomsticks that various players used.

"We need to beat the Slytherins this year," Dean was saying and Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

"Nah, Dean, I was just planning on letting them win—we could even forfeit the match to make it easier!"

"Point taken," He said, holding his hands up in front of him defensively as he chuckled at her. "But the only way we're going to be able to see if they've gotten any good in the last two years is if we spy on them."

"They won't really let anyone on the teams just watch the match," Neville pointed out, "I'd offer to do it, but I have no wish to get pummeled for spying."

"We'll have to use someone who's known for not caring much about Quidditch at all," Seamus said, "They won't feel threatened, and they won't bother them any more than the regular taunting. Maybe a girl—a girl is less likely to get pummeled."

"_Everyone_ likes Quidditch," Ginny exclaimed, pounding her fist onto the wooden table causing me to have to catch the pitcher of pumpkin juice before it spilled all over Neville and I.

"Dammit, Ginny, calm yourself," I said, trailing my fingers in the pitcher and flicking a few drops of the juice at her face. She blinked and turned her vision to me slowly, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

"What?" I asked, blinking at her blankly. "What's with the creepy grin?"

"Hermione, you don't like Quidditch too much, do you?" she asked and Dean and Seamus snapped their gazes to me, grins similar to Ginny's beginning to slowly spread across their faces as well.

I blinked again before shaking my head rapidly. "No." I said firmly. "No, no, no, no, no, no, _no_. I _refuse_ to spy on the Slytherin Quidditch team!"

Ginny tapped her fingers on the table impatiently. "'Mione, do you love me?"

"Like a sister," I responded immediately.

"Do you care about my happiness?"

"So much that I threatened Harry that if he broke up with you to be noble again, I would castrate him."

"Then why won't you do me this _teeny tiny_ little favor?"

"I don't even _like_ Quidditch!" I said indignantly, "Where would I benefit from spying on a Quidditch team full of people who dislike me and I them?"

"Blaise is on the team," Luna offered.

"You could say you're watching Blaise." Ginny offered.

"What?" I asked, rolling my eyes, "So it looks like we're together? So it looks like I _want_ us to be together?"

"You two act like a couple enough anyway," Dean said dismissively, "It's really weird."

"We do _not_!" I hissed indignantly.

"All _three_ of you girls act like you're dating Zabini," Seamus observed.

"I swear to Merlin, Finnigan, if you suggest that we're putting out for Zabini, you will be off the team permanently and in the hospital wing for the next six months." Ginny growled.

It was his turn to hold his hands out in front of him in mocking-defense. "I wasn't going to say anything of the sort. It was just a comment."

I sighed heavily as Ginny turned her expectant gaze to me once more.

"Please, 'Mione?" she pleaded. "It would mean so much to me—and would give Gryffindor an easier time winning the cup. You may not like Quidditch, but you like winning."

I glared at her with little venom before allowing my head to nod once, twice, three times, in a very curt manner.

"OHMIGOSH THANK YOU!" She squealed loudly, leaping across the table to hug me like the madwoman she is, capturing me in a hug resembling a choke-hold, managing to spill my recently saved pumpkin juice all over the both of us.

"This is _so_ not a good way to repay me," I groaned from under her on the hard floor that I'd landed on when she'd pushed me out of my seat. "And now I'm all _wet_ and it's just horrible and this was my best school shirt and my head hurts and you're _still_ on me and people are staring and _get off of me, Gin_!"

Neville leaned over and tugged Ginny off of me, sitting her in my vacated seat, before taking my hand and hauling me up. I grimaced down at my see-through shirt that was sticky with pumpkin juice and glared wryly at Ginny.

"I can always reconsider," I said darkly, fisting the bottom of my shirt and pulling it around to see if it would make the transparency less so. No such luck, the shirt was even more transparent and I sighed, wishing I'd stop leaving my cloak in my dorm.

"He said no," Blaise said as he strode over towards us and, with a salute at Neville, Dean, and Seamus, whisked us away in the direction of the library. "None of the Slytherins are very happy with my _traitorous secret keeping_, and he was unwilling to give the interview until I shared the secret I've been working so hard to keep hidden."

"Blaise," Ginny said seriously, "Why not just _lie_?" Tell them that Hermione's pregnant with your child or something."

I choked on my spit, hacking away as Blaise stared at our friend with wide eyes.

Luna smiled serenely. "I think it's a good idea," she offered and Ginny beamed at her.

"We aren't even considering this," I said firmly, "And it will never be spoken about again. Ginny, I am not afraid to change my mind about the other thing."

"And now there's a secret being kept against me?" Blaise asked, finally re-gathering his wits.

"Oh, don't be a baby," I told him, "I'm sure you'll find out eventually. Quite soon, if I'm being realistic."

Ginny and Luna nodded their agreement, still snickering about Ginny's latest mental idea, and I shook my head at them, the four of us stopping off at the portrait of the Fat Lady so I could run upstairs and grab a shirt. I was still pulling it down over my head when I came downstairs, having tried to be quick about it after I'd splashed a bit of water over my sticky skin.

"'Mione, is that shirt from like third year?" Ginny asked innocently as I finally got it pulled all the way down and I glanced down and sighed in frustration.

"Did you really have to replace my clothing?" I asked her and she shrugged, slapping my hands away from my mid-rift, where I'd been trying to get the shirt to cover a few more inches of stomach. Of course, once I pulled that down, the top part came down, exposing the edges of my navy coloured bra, and I groaned, smacking Ginny across the back of the head. "I look like you do on a date with Harry!"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" she questioned.

"It means you dress like a whore on your dates with Harry," I replied flatly and she smirked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"I don't know what I was thinking when I friended a bunch of girls," Blaise said absentmindedly, keeping his eyes away from my chest and bared stomach like the gentleman he claimed he wasn't.

"I mean, you lot are nice and all, but the fact that most of your conversations are insulting to other people, about clothes, or comparing guys really ruins my manliness."

"What manliness?" Ginny snipped and I smirked, giving up on pulling my shirt down—there's only so much bra I can get away with exposing before I look like Parkinson.

"Is your _bellybutton_ pierced?" Ginny asked me incredulously.

I shrugged. "I had my mum take me to get it done back in fourth year—she was all for it."

"Why have I not known about this sooner?"

"Because you don't look at my stomach that often?" I replied, making it sound more like a question. "Because I don't expose my stomach that often? Because it's not exactly a fact I parade around?"

"You better not have any tattoos," she muttered and I laughed.

I have to admit—making my third batch of Amortentia whilst sleep deprived was probably not one of my smarter moves. While, I may deal with the whole lack-of-sleep thing quite well, the amount of lack-of-sleep that I'd been getting since just days after the war, and the whole fact that I wasn't merely staying up to read or study, I was actually doing many errands, running around the ministry and arguing with the Wizengamot and talking to Harry and Ron and Mr Lovegood and my clients.

So, my point; making the world's most powerful love potion when I could barely keep my eyes open for more than a few minutes at a time, nevertheless successfully count stirs and measure ingredients and pay attention to what was going on—not my best idea.

It had started off innocently enough. We'd gotten to stage four, and it looked and smelled perfectly fine, so why not continue?

Of course, no one noticed a damn thing. Blaise was just blindly following my instructions, and Slughorn didn't ever bother to check up on me before he knew my potion would be completed and I was simply too tired to be able to tell all the tell-tale signs that our potion was about to explode.

And explode it did, right as Blaise put the grinded up fairy wings in it. It almost looked as if it were his fault.

Everyone, and I mean _everyone_ got covered with my nearly complete Amortentia. Slughorn, thankfully, had gone into the back room for a moment, but all twenty students in the Advanced Potions class this hour got soaked with the pinkish colour potion.

Obviously, what happened next can only be described as chaos. My beautiful _completely unstable_ almost-finished Amortentia was mucking up the thought processes of everyone in the room—the first person of the opposite sex they locked eyes with was suddenly the most appealing person in the world.

People were, for lack of better word, _gravitating_ towards those they'd locked eyes with, and I was avoiding the eyes of everyone as I quickly stuck Blaise to his seat as per his request before he went and ravished Amelia Bones on her desk.

"_What the hell did you do, Granger?_" Someone hissed at me, and I looked up sharply, pissed that someone was blaming _me_ for this. Immediately, my eyes locked on Malfoy's, who looked just as pissed off at me, and I latched my arms around Blaise as a horrifying feeling erupted in the pit of my stomach.

"What the hell is your problem, Malfoy?" I whined, my voice uncharacteristically breathy. All around, the strangest couplings you could imagine were snogging each others' brains out. "I'm quite certain that you knew what would happen if we locked eyes."

"It was a mistake," he admitted after a few moments, and Blaise looked immensely amused at the fact that my hold on him relaxed at the sound of Malfoy's voice.

"If it makes you feel better, Draco," my dark haired friend offered," I was the one that put the fairy wings in before 'Mione told me to."

"Strangely enough, Blaise," Malfoy replied dryly, "That _doesn't_ make me feel any better. Now I know I have a complete _dunce_ for a best mate—_everyone _knows that you don't ever add fairy wings before the potion turns white. Obviously, the effect is being displayed."

"_Why are you getting closer to me?_" I hissed venomously, but my voice didn't even _sound_ upset.

Fuck this.

There was a moment of silence again, and I heard the sound of a desk scraping against the ground.

"I don't think he realized it," Blaise offered, and I peeked one eye open so I could glare at my friend, making sure I kept my gaze far away from the boy I currently wanted to jump then and there. "He's now clutching to his desk as if it's keeping him from dying."

"Might as well be," I muttered. "He kisses me, I _will_ kill him."

Blaise chuckled. "Now, I know you don't mean that, 'Mione."

"Maybe I don't right_ now_," I admitted sulkily, "But when the potion wears off, I will definitely be ripping him apart, limb by limb."

"Just imagine," Blaise began gleefully, "him kissing you. His hands moving all around your body, his lips against yours as he traps you against a wall."

I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my mouth, but I smacked Blaise across the back of the head and he stopped. Behind me, the desk-moving-against-ground noise had sounded again for a moment.

But I couldn't get the images out of my head, and I buried my face in Blaise's chest, groaning softly in protest.

"Why'd you have to go and put those images in my head?" I moaned to him, one hand clutching my head tightly. The image Blaise had described was playing out over and over, each repeat containing more detail than before.

"I'm evil." Blaise replied simply, his voice shaking with laughter, and I made a whining noise as Slughorn's office door opened and I watched as our professor gaped at the snogging couples littered around the room, Blaise glued to his chair, me clutching Blaise, Malfoy (presumably) attached to his desk, and Susan tied to the doorknob.

"_What_ is going on here?" Slughorn asked disbelievingly and I groaned again as I accidently caught sight of Malfoy. His desk slipped a couple inches in my direction before he moved it back shakily.

"I put fairy wings in our potion while it was still pink." Blaise offered mildly, and I watched Slughorn roll his eyes.

"Foolish boy," he muttered, clearly thinking that we couldn't hear him, "_Everyone_ knows that you put the fairy wings in after the potion turns white."

I glanced up at Blaise's face, and his grin had flattened.

"Yes," my friend said dryly, "Draco and 'Mione said the same."

Slughorn was shaking his head and I was in a lot of horribly aroused sort of pain, but had more pride than to let a professor watch me hide from Malfoy, and people were still snogging, and Malfoy actually had the brains to ask how long it would be before this wore off.

"I'd say about thirty-six hours to forty-eight hours," Slughorn mused, examining the remains of the potion in our cauldron with a well-trained eye. "_Maybe_ thirty-four, if you're lucky."

"Hit him again for me, will you, Granger?" Malfoy called to me and I gladly complied, the palm of my right hand attacking Blaise relentlessly as I used my left to clutch to his arm as carefully as I could before I _gravitated_ towards Malfoy and jumped him against the wall.

* * *

><p><strong>Ahh, yes, the ever-used amortentia-in-potions-class thing. Hope that doesn't drive you lot away from reading, because it is just a passing fad in this hunkering mess of a story. I really hope you liked this chapter, and it means so much that you lot are all reading! If you've got a sec, review if you want. :)<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Do. Not. Laugh." I hissed darkly at Luna and Ginny who looked as if they were going to go into hysterics. I'd handcuffed myself to Blaise and threatened him into dragging me to the Gryffindor table. Susan seemed to be missing dinner, and across the Hall, I could_ feel_ Malfoy's presence just waiting for me to go over to him.

Snorts of amusement were escaping from Ginny's lips and I glared at her furiously. I could see my hands shaking as I slowly scooped out some mashed potatoes onto my plate for dinner, and clearly she could too, because a laugh sounded before her lips were pressed together again.

"This isn't funny!" I exclaimed indignantly, slamming my hands on the table in front of me, consequently swinging Blaise's around with my left. He looked distinctly amused and I glared at the lot of them.

"So I heard that Malfoy and 'Mione are undeniably attracted to each other for the next thirty six hours," An amused voice sounded and I whipped my head around to glare at Seamus, Dean, and Neville as well.

"What crawled up _your_ arse?" Lavender asked me snippily and I blinked at her in bewilderment for a moment before rolling my eyes.

"What're you talking about?" Ginny asked her curiously.

"Obviously, Granger should be using this to her advantage," Lavender explained as though it was obvious. "Merlin knows if _I_ had Draco Malfoy ready to shag me at any given moment, I'd wouldn't leave his side."

I gagged at that and Ginny roared with laughter with the boys.

"Please go away," I told the annoying blonde girl weakly. "I will never shag Draco Malfoy."

"Prude," she muttered at me before getting up and walking further down the table to sit with some sixth years.

"I am _not_ a prude," I said, affronted, as she walked away, but she didn't hear me.

"Lavender might be right, 'Mione," Ginny said before giggling away again. "You should definitely be taking this to advantage."

"I am _not_ shagging Malfoy!" I repeated.

"I mean," she continued on as if I hadn't spoken, "_I'm_ taken, and very happy with Harry, but there's no denying that Malfoy's hot."

"And the rumors," Luna added.

"What rumors?" Neville asked, sounding as if he didn't really want to know.

"A lot of girls say he's very good," Luna said vaguely, sipping her pumpkin juice as though talking about Malfoy's talent in bed were a normal occurrence for us. It's not.

Neville and Seamus gagged dramatically.

"I think that's our cue to leave." Dean said, looking disgusted at Luna and Ginny who were shrieking with laughter.

"Yeah," Blaise called after them, pouting at their backs, "Run while you can and leave me to talk about _that_."

Seamus turned around, and, while walking backwards, saluted Blaise with an amused grin on his face.

"Do not speak." I said to Ginny as she opened her mouth to talk. "I do not wish to shag Malfoy any time in this life, and it would be great if you didn't put unnecessary images in my Amortentia-drugged mind."

"Also," Blaise added, "While I have a high tolerance as far as this stuff goes, I don't wish to burn my ears out."

Dessert was an interesting affair. And by interesting, of course I mean I spent a good portion of it trying (and most likely succeeding) to seduce Malfoy. There was the whole licking chocolate off my fingertips and the sucking on a spoon that had ice cream on it and. . .

Damn Amortentia.

Blaise finally noticed, and—thankfully—put a stop to it by asking me if I changed my mind about Lavender's suggestion.

Well, he got stabbed with a fork for that, but my gaze was sufficiently dropped to my plate and I could feel the heat pooling in my cheeks. I'd never been so bold as to seduce a man at dinner across the hall, and now the damn potion was messing with my head.

Finally, the blasted affair was over with and Blaise was taking me out of the Hall and I vanished the handcuffs as soon as we exited it, the separation of being in a different room already clearing my mind. We were halfway across the entrance hall when I was suddenly pulled backwards and towards the door to the great hall, Blaise's voice trailing off confusedly as he realized I was no longer next to him.

In the arms of one Draco Malfoy, I was, the look on his face just as surprised as I felt.

"'Mione?" Blaise called curiously, and I could picture him slowly turning around and scanning the faces of the people who were pushing past him in efforts to get back to the dorms.

"What was that show earlier all about?" Malfoy actually had the gall to ask me and I scowled at him.

"That was the _potion_ deciding that it would be fun to make me bolder than I usually am," I replied shortly, looking up at him from under my eyelashes and loathing the feeling of contentedness that had settled in my stomach as soon as his arms went around my waist. But never fear, the fun does not stop here—I wanted to be _closer_ to him.

Damn Amortentia.

"It was rather. . ." Malfoy whispered to me in a slightly husker tone, his lips at my ear as he leaned his head down low towards mine. "_alluring._"

"_Hermione_. Granger." Blaise's voice suddenly sounded from right next to me just as I genuinely felt like I was about to kiss bloody Malfoy. "_What_, may I ask, are you doing with Draco?"

"He came out of the hall too soon," I told him, scrunching my eyes closed and hating the disappointment that was washing over me because we'd been interrupted. "I wasn't far away enough to grab onto anything."

I felt Blaise's hands at the small of my back, prying his best mate's away from me, and Malfoy and I let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. I didn't miss the disappointment that flashed through his eyes either though—the potion was making him upset at our sudden lack of contact.

"Let's go," Blaise cooed at me, sounding as much like my father as he had when he'd first found me. His hands were on my hips in a respectful manner, and he was all but shoving me up the staircase.

"That was far too close," I breathed as we got in a small third floor corridor. "Find me faster next time, will you?"

"I have to admit," he shrugged, finally releasing me and trading for just an arm around my shoulders, "You two looked very cozy together there, staring into each other's eyes. Did you even notice the people who were staring at you?"

"People were staring?" I asked, my voice a horrified whisper.

"A lot of people." Blaise responded after a minute of debating on whether or not to lie to me.

"This is so _bad_," I whined to him. "Do you know—gag—how contented I felt in his arms?"

Blaise stared at me.

"You're familiar with the pang to go find Susan, right?" I asked him and he nodded. "Well that pang went away as soon as Malfoy wrapped his arms around my waist. But a new pang came, and it was telling me to get closer to him."

"I don't know how much closer the two of you could have been," he commented. "you two were pressed right up against each other."

I sighed. "I'm overreacting about this—and I know that. But I don't want to go shag Malfoy and then have the both of us regret it when the potion wears off."

"That's all you're worried about?"

"Is that not enough to worry about?" I asked testily and he chuckled.

"As much as you and Draco may loathe each other, sex is sex. There's not a whole lot of regret on his part unless he gets a girl pregnant—_which _he has yet to do."

"Sex isn't just sex for me though," I said bluntly and Blaise winced, but manned up and decided to make his way through this conversation. "I mean—I don't like it when people calling it _making love_, but I don't want to just sleep with any person and be like 'ooh, I just had sex. . .whatever'. The person has to mean something to me."

"Right now, Draco means something to you."

"Because I'm infected with a potion that spilt all over me when it exploded!"

"Look," Blaise sighed, "I'm not telling you to shack up with my friend. I'm telling you that if it _did_ happen, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"In my third year," I admitted after a few moments, the portrait of the Fat Lady in view ahead. "Ginny devised a term. Mostly to annoy me, but partially because she genuinely believed that we would get together."

"You two _definitely_ had sexual tension back then." Blaise agreed, "All the glares and the scowls and the arguing and then you _hit_ him and. . .gosh that was _such_ a good year."

I scowled at him for a moment before rolling my eyes. "_Anyway_, she said that all the best couples have names. Like a combination of the two first names."

"Ooh," Blaise said gleefully. "She did not put your two names together."

"She did," I winced before lowering my voice even more. "She called us _Dramione_."

And then I stepped through the portrait of the Fat Lady, letting the password slip though my lips quiet enough for Blaise to not be able to hear. But I don't think he'd have heard anyway—no, he was too busy gaping at my back, his mouth hanging half open.

"He still says no," Blaise reported the next day and I sighed heavily, shoving my bangs away from my face. I'd been up all night meticulously devising questions that would be asked—both ones that supported our side, and ones that the ministry might ask to try and screw my case up.

"I might murder that little bastard." I hissed venomously before sighing again. I was seated across from Blaise at the Gryffindor table, Ginny having decided to miss the first three periods to go on a date with Harry, and Luna in Care of Magical Creatures. I honestly had no idea where the boys were, but I also honestly didn't care.

"You and me both," Blaise agreed and I looked at him, surprised. He shrugged and clarified. "He's genuinely making this as difficult as possible for me. Share the secret with your house, and I might do it."

"I bet Harry and Kingsley could manage to pardon me from murder—Merlin knows the ministry won't be to upset about it."

"You're not _actually_ considering it, are you?"

"It should definitely be painful. Something that says 'fuck you, you little bastard—you deserve this after all the pain you caused me'."

Blaise was staring at me, his face mildly concerned.

"Well I could start by peeling his skin off. And then I could roll him in lemon juice, before leaving him out on the grounds to be eaten by fire ants."

"And on _that_ note," he announced, standing up and leaning over the table, pulling me to a standing position as well, "We're taking you to the Room of Requirement so you can sleep."

"You think this is caused by lack of sleep?" I hissed. "I am so pissed off!"

"I hadn't noticed." Blaise said dryly and I glared at him.

"I don't need sleep," I said finally, "I took three Pepper-Up potions this morning. And I promise I won't commit murder today."

He studied me closely before nodding once and dragging me off to Charms class, making sure to keep our distance from Malfoy, who'd managed to leave first today. We were late, but once Flitwick noticed the fact that Malfoy was now clutching his desk as though it were a lifeline instead of just sitting there with a bored expression on his face, our professor just waved it off.

I stalked all the way towards the desk in the absolute far corner, sinking down in it and pulling out a piece of parchment, my hand soon flying off the page, recording everything that came out of Flitwick's mouth.

It actually felt good to be just taking notes in a class again. A feeling of normalcy was settling over me, and I could feel myself finally at home with Hogwarts once more. Of course, there still was the whole shag-Malfoy-because-he's-looking-deliciously-fine-leaning-over-his-desk-with-his-tie-undone-and-his-hair-mussed-up feeling that was swarming around me because of the damn potion that should be gone by about midnight tonight. But I was in my element again, taking notes and answering questions, and the first one to successfully cast the spell when we moved onto the practical part of class.

I fondly patted my ballet-dancing-desk and watched as Blaise failed magnificently with a bit of amusement. He'd always been bad at Charms.

"You're being to gentle with your wand movements," I told him after his desk kicked him in the shin before turning completely lifeless again.

"That was _not_ gentle!" he panted, clutching his leg with his left hand and glaring at the desk.

"The wand movement," I said flatly, "Not the fact that your desk kicked you."

"You're just smug because your desk is doing a perfect pirouette." He retorted childishly and I shrugged.

"I don't see why that's not a reason to be smug. You just got kicked by your desk. You're lucky I'm not laughing."

He scowled at me and I smiled sweetly, but deciding that he didn't really need my help.

"Excellent, Miss Granger!" Flitwick praised and I smiled at the tiny elderly man. "Ten points to Gryffindor for a _flawless_ execution of the spell!"

A self satisfied smirk twitched at the corner of my lips as Blaise's desk was now standing on top of my poor friend, one of the desk legs raised towards the sky as a wrestling champion would.

"Show off." He muttered, and I let the smirk spill across my lips, flicking my wand so the desk was once again a normal desk and moving it off of him.

* * *

><p><strong>It means so much to me all of you who read and reviewed and favorited and story-alerted and all that stuff and I don't know how to thank you enough for all the attention this little fic is getting already! Over a thousand views! That's...that's amazing. Thank you. I hope you enjoyed this part too.<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"And day four of this completely useless class commences." Ginny announced as we stepped into the old Muggle Studies room and made our ways towards our regular seats. Blaise had decided to sit with the Slytherins for once, and work on getting _him_ to say yes to the interview.

"It's proved a good study hour." Luna offered pleasantly, settling herself on my seat and leaving me to take Blaise's regular spot atop the desk. I crossed my legs and handed them the sheet of questions for them to read over and suggest changes.

"They're really good," Ginny said, scanning her eyes over the questions quickly. "How much sleep did you lose over this?"

"Only one night."

"_Only_." She said sarcastically. "A better reason to lose sleep would be because you finally gave into your Amortentia-induced feelings and shagged Malfoy."

I scowled at her. "Would you give it up already?"

"Dramione forever!" She cheered under her breath, taking care to keep hushed since we hadn't bothered to put up Muffilato today.

"Go sleep with Harry." I snapped.

"I did that yesterday."

"Slut."

"He's my _boyfriend_," Ginny protested, laughing. "I'm allowed to sleep with him as many times as I like."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Tell me that doesn't sound slutty."

"That doesn't sound slutty." She repeated and I nudged her knee with my foot, grinning.

"The questions are excellent." Luna announced after having finished reading the last one. "Very good—you should become an interviewer, Hermione."

"I've always wanted to be a writer." I mused absentmindedly. "Maybe own a bookshop and write."

"That's so _bland_!" Ginny said, giggling.

"I just finished spending the last eight years of my life saving the world with your boyfriend and your brother. I think I deserve a little boring in my life."

Luna's laughter escaped through her lips and Ginny's giggles increased and I rolled my eyes at them fondly, leaning back so I was laying across the desk, my head turned so I could see my two friends, one of my legs folded up and the other one stretched out and hanging off.

"You missed a lot last night, you two," I said quietly after we finished tiring out every detail of Harry and Ginny's most recent date. "Malfoy and I had a. . ._complication_."

"Did you shag?"

"_Would you stop asking that?_" I hissed at Ginny and she snorted, but gestured for me to continue. "We accidently got too close to each other in the entrance hall and ended up in each other's arms and staring at each other for Merlin knows how long. Blaise had to drag me away."

They looked at each other and promptly began squealing, causing more than a few people to look at us curiously. I sighed dramatically and threw an arm across my forehead, letting my eyelids flutter closed as Ginny and Luna planned mine and Malfoy's wedding. Because that's what they do.

Suddenly, the din in the classroom ceased immediately, and I opened one eye and lifted my head slightly, looking around for the cause. The young looking professor was calmly sitting at her desk, watching us closely.

Ginny nudged me to get off of _our_ desk, but I didn't bother, only moving into a sitting position so I looked slightly more respectful. This teacher still had a lot of making up to do to earn my respect—she'd ditched three and a half classes.

"Good morning, class." She said pleasantly and I had a flash back of Umbridge greeting us the same. Luckily, this one didn't get irritated when we just continued staring at her blankly. "My name is Professor Harris, and I will be your Life Studies class."

I blinked before glancing at Ginny and Luna. _Life_ studies? We're studying life?

"This class will teach you the basics of home life through a series of concepts. You will learn relationship development and receive tips and counseling on your relationship, you will be learning how to care for children, and you will be examining life as an adult in a mixed culture world—that is to say, half Muggle, half wizarding."

_What_?

"Today, we will start with the basics." she said cheerfully. "I must learn all of your names. I will pair you off, and you will stand in front of the room, look into your partners' eyes, state their first and last name, and an adjective or two that describes them well. Please be kind."

Oh goodness.

She pointed at two random people and told them to get in front of the classroom. I had a feeling she knew our names already, but with her perfect usages of the 'you, blondie', I couldn't be sure.

"Blaise Zabini," Luna said in her trademark dreamy voice, "undeniably loyal."

"Luna Lovegood," Blaise returned, "separated from everyone."

"Ginny Weasley," Hufflepuff Grant said, "fiercely strong."

"Grant Holburry," she returned, "loves the world."

It went on and on like that, people looking surprised at what was said about them, and what they were saying about their partners. Finally, no surprise here, Professor Harris jabbed her finger in my direction and then in Malfoy's.

I sighed and tucked my hands deep in my back pockets, hoping desperately that close proximity and eye contact wouldn't completely throw me off.

"Draco Malfoy," I said quietly, feeling myself get sucked up into his stormy silver gaze that had steaks of sapphire blue and darker greys that were famous among the girls' loos, "broken."

"Hermione Granger," he returned, and suddenly, I couldn't read his gaze anymore. It was as if he'd closed himself off tightly at my last word. "lost."

I blinked and then I was being gently dragged back to my desk by Luna, where she sat me down on top of the table top and took her seat once more.

There as a heavy silence in the room until people seemed to realize that _yes_, everyone had gone, and _yes_, Hermione Granger had just called Draco Malfoy broken, and _yes_, he'd replied by calling her lost.

I closed my eyes for a long moment, trying to see if there was any truth in Malfoy's adjective. I admit, I was completely ignoring the professor's speech as she drew the class to a close, only managing to make out a 'can't wait to see you all tomorrow' before I was up and out of the classroom, speed-walking out of the castle and onto the grounds, glad I had a free period next.

I went directly into the forest and followed the perimeter of the lake until I ended up on the far side of it that was still in Hogwarts. There is a part of the lake that extends to the train station in Hogsmeade, but I was just in a clearing in the forest that had a part of the lake there as well.

I lay down on my back atop the cool green grass, depositing my book bag on the ground a couple feet away from me. Letting my gaze sweep over the cloudy sky before I let my eyelids flutter closed, I took deep breaths and focused on reminding myself that Malfoy couldn't have possibly been right with his word.

I wasn't lost. I knew where I was. I know who I am.

"Oi, Adrian. Theo." Blaise beckoned to them, and they looked at each other before glancing at me standing next to him before shrugging, rising from their seats across from Malfoy and wandering on over.

Malfoy was scowling at Blaise and I again.

"'Mione needs your help." Blaise explained to them when they finally got over to us and we left the Great Hall. I'd decided that it would be better to eat in the kitchens so that we could talk freely with minimal precautionary spells.

"What is Granger doing that she would enlist the help of not only _you_," Nott pointed to Blaise, "The not-that-Slytherin Slytherin, but us as well?"

"Proving the Malfoys innocent." I said flatly. "And your little friend seems to want to make this as difficult as possible."

Now all three of them were gaping at me.

"You tell them. Just like that?" Blaise asked indignantly, "It took me a week of extensive prodding to get it out of you!"

"I'm running out of time," I snapped. "I don't have a week to wait until they finally annoy me enough that I yell it out at them."

"Plus, mate," Pucey agreed, "We probably wouldn't just irritate her, we'd go through extensive Veritaserum-in-the-goblet, and kidnapping her in the night and interrogating her while she's strapped to a chair with a lone wand light. That sort of stuff."

"Maybe _you_ would," Nott muttered to his friend, "But I'd just ask normally. Like I did. And look! It worked."

I let a half-grin cross my lips. Nott seemed the most sardonic of the three.

"Anyway," I said, staring at their hefty amounts of food with mild disgust before turning my lettuce and spinach leaves over with my fork. "We decided to get publicity for the whole thing—Narcissa and Lucius already agreed to doing an interview and answering whatever questions we throw at them. It would be published in the Quibbler first and th—"

"I'm sorry," Pucey interrupted. "The _Quibbler_? The magazine that no one reads?"

"A lot more people read it now," I said sharply, glaring at him, "They're all busy pretending that they read it throughout the war. It supported Harry and Harry won, therefore it is now quite popular."

He blinked, exchanging gazes with Blaise and Nott before motioning for me to continue.

"And then, if it gets enough interest, which it will, the Prophet and Witch Weekly will buy the interview so they can publish it in their pages. The entire British wizarding world will know of the Malfoys' story, and if the ministry continues to avoid letting the family testify for themselves, the public will have an uproar."

"And the ministry does not want the public to rebel—not this soon after all the damage caused by the war," Blaise finished. "So they'll let the Malfoys' testify. And, if what 'Mione is saying is true, which it is, once the ministry hears the story clean out, they'll _have_ to declare the verdict innocent. The Malfoys _are_ innocent, and if the public knows that, the ministry won't _dare_ screw around and declare them guilty anyway."

"Because of an uproar." Nott said slowly, looking at me with appraising eyes.

"You just made it completely impossible for the ministry to declare them anything _but_ innocent." Pucey said softly, all condescending doubt gone from his expression.

"Don't call her Slytherin—she doesn't like it." Blaise told them in a stage-whisper and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Wait." Nott said suddenly, putting his sandwich down. "Is this the secret that Blaise is committing house treason for?"

"Yup," Blaise said happily, popping his lips on the 'p' like a moron.

"House_ treason_?" I questioned. "You lot aren't known for being loyal—what's the big deal?"

"Not house treason exactly," Nott tried to explain. "more like friend treason. As non-loyal as we are in general, us three, Draco, and the girls—Pansy and Daphnee—usually tell almost everything to each other."

I wrinkled my nose. "Blaise has that much baggage? I'd assumed he was just the loner loser Slytherin 'cause he was so nice yet annoying."

Pucey and Nott snickered as Blaise stared at me, his mouth hanging open slightly in outrage. But then it closed suddenly and I could see the beginnings of a wicked smirk curling at the edges of his lips. "What was that word that Ginny created in her second year?" He asked me and I felt all humor drain from my face until I was giving him the glare of death.

"Don't you _dare_, Blaise Zabini." I hissed darkly.

"Oh," he said, as if he'd just remembered. "It—"

"Don't do this." I snapped, "You'll regret it."

"was—"

"I SAID NO!" I screamed, "DON'T YOU _DAR_—"

"_DRAMIONE_!" he yelled out triumphantly, his voice managing to drown out my own, and there was a shocked silence from the two boys sitting across from us and I lunged at Blaise much like Ginny had the week previously when I agreed to spy on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Except, I wasn't hugging him, I was attacking him with my fists, slapping and punching and swearing at him as he alternated between roaring with laughter and crying out with pain.

"You absolute _bastard_!" I exclaimed, "See if I tell you anything again."

"Dra-mione?" Nott was repeating blankly, his voice a tone higher than usual while he tried to make sense of it in his head.

"Like Draco and Hermione?" Pucey questioned, and Blaise called out a sharp yes until I got my elbow in his stomach.

"Alright," he said from under me, "I shouldn't have said it."

"That didn't sound like an apology," I commented and he grinned as I finally rose, taking my seat across from Nott once more.

"We've talked about this, love."

"Moving on from that—for now—what did you want us to do?" Nott asked me curiously. "I mean, we're all pretty close, but Blaise is definitely the closest with Draco. If he can't get the boy to do the interview, then you're pretty much screwed."

I scowled at him. "You are _so_ optimistic."

"I'm being realistic," he said. "Draco Malfoy will not be tricked into doing something he does not want to do."

"Then we just have to make him _want_ to do it." I snapped. That boy is not going to ruin everything that I've spent so long working towards.

The boys exchanged glances again, and I smirked, running my tongue over my bottom lip before dipping my finger absently in the ranch dressing before sucking it off slowly.

"You're going to use the potion?" Blaise asked flatly. "You all but attacked me yesterday when I suggested it."

"You suggested I _shag_ Malfoy." I retorted. "I just need to get him to agree to the interview."

"And you're going to do it by _seducing _him?"

"Merlin, _no_," I said, rolling my eyes at him as if he were dumb. "That's strictly plan z. I'm going to talk to him."

Nott snorted and I raised my eyebrows at him. "You're going to _talk_ to him? You, Hermione Granger, are going to talk to Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes," I said, "he wants to know the secret—I'll tell him the secret."

"That she's really pregnant with Blaise's child and that's why he's been hanging around us so much," Ginny said, announcing her and Luna's presences by causing more confusion.

"You're _what_?" Pucey gasped out, staring at the pair of us with wide eyes.

"She likes telling people that crap," I snapped, throwing my fork at Ginny. "She says it would be better to make up a lie for you lot than tell the truth."

"And _that's_ the lie that she came up with?" Nott asked disbelievingly.

"I have not, nor will I _ever_, sleep with Blaise." I said bluntly, rolling my eyes at the giggling Ginny and Luna.

"I take offense to that." Blaise said lightly and I grinned at him.

"You five, make friendsies." I told them, getting up from my seat. "I'm off to find ferret boy."

"Did you just use the word _friendsies_?"

"Do what I said." I snapped. "I'm running on three hours of sleep and multiple Pepper Up potions."

"She spends a lot of time on this case." I heard Blaise telling Nott and Pucey. "I mean a _lot_. She's literally got every piece of information that could possibly be used to prove them innocent. Memories and family trees and old letters and photographs."

I didn't search for Malfoy.

Instead, I went immediately up the first stair case I came across, and continued walking without pause until I was at the entrance of the library.

I studied the once-familiar oak doors, letting my eyes run over the intricate carvings on them. I almost had a sense of urgency to drag my fingers through the grooves and niches, but I restrained myself, instead pulling open one door and slipping inside the silent library.

I'd always loved it here—the scent of emptiness, the dust particles floating in the dim air. The piles of books and the endless shelves that seemed to span forever and then some. The worn tables that looked older than time, and the dark corners that were untouched by the few candles that floated in the air far above reach.

The library used to be my sanctuary. A place I could go to when I was feeling upset or annoyed. A place I could go to escape regular life. Of course, I was here often for work as well, but for all that Harry and Ron thought they knew, I didn't work here nearly as much as I hid here.

I let my feet take me to my favorite corner in the far end of the library, completely on the other side from where Blaise, Luna, Ginny and I had been meeting to go over the Malfoy case.

_My_ corner was one of the darker ones, and no one noticed me curled up in the old couch, immersed in the shadows. I plucked a familiar worn book with fading gold lettering from the Muggle novels book shelf and sank down on the couch, folding my legs under me and opening Romeo and Juliet to the first page.

And, for the first time in a while, I let myself get lost inside my favorite book.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

". . .don't wake her, this must be the first time she's slept in a while. . ."

"She didn't find. . ."

". . .gone for hours."

". . .upset if we leave her. . ."

_CLUNK_.

"_Blaise, you idiot!_"

I groaned slightly and shifted, turning my head away from the noise.

"I am_ not_ an idiot."

"You definitely are a moron though."

"Shush—you guys are going to wake her!"

"You lot aren't very good at being quiet," I mumbled, smiling slightly before dragging my eyes open and staring up at the people in front of me.

Blaise, Ginny, Luna, Theo, and Adrian were surrounding me on the tiny couch, and I rolled my eyes at a pouting Blaise.

"I told you," Luna murmured dreamily.

"Why'd you wake me?" I asked curiously, glancing at my half-finished book.

"You looked like you were having too good a dream," Adrian offered and I laughed, smacking him lightly across the stomach, to which he gave me a mock-glare.

"So what was your dream about?" Theo asked after a moment of silence and I blinked.

"I dunno," I murmured, examining the worn book in my hands instead of looking at their faces. "All I know is that it was really good."

"Well that's boring." Ginny commented, pulling me up from the couch, my book falling from my loose hold and onto the cushions that I'd just vacated. We walked together towards the Great Hall, my arms around Luna and Ginny's shoulders, the boys walking behind us. I vaguely wondered exactly how we'd decided that Adrian and Theo were friends instead of enemies now.

"You don't remember your dream?" Ginny asked and I shrugged—I rarely dreamt anymore, and when I did, it was even less often that I remembered what I dreamt about.

"I wish I couldn't remember my dreams," Luna breathed, and I tightened my grip around her shoulders, pulling her close.

We walked into the hall and attracted quite a few eyes as Theo, Adrian, and Blaise followed us over to the Gryffindor table. You'd think the school would get used to it—but I guess every time we enlist the help of a new Slytherin, they're going to have heart attacks.

"You didn't talk to Draco," Blaise commented after stuffing a bread roll in his mouth and swallowing it with difficulty. "We went to visit him about half an hour after you'd left and, while we didn't mention you coming to corner him, he didn't seem bring up anything about Granger being mental and butting into his business."

"He will soon," I said firmly, "I will talk to him."

"You mean you'll say something nice and he'll reply sarcastically and then you'll be screaming at him, but it's not so bad because he'll be yelling back at you." Adrian corrected and I raised my brows at him, conceding his point.

"Quite." Theo said, nodding once.

"I almost want to watch that go about," Ginny mused, shoving half a sandwich in my mouth when she noticed I was talking instead of eating. "It would be interesting—Malfoy still doesn't know what's up unless any of _you_ three dunderheads let him in on it."

"We didn't say a word," Theo said flatly, clearly insulted at being called a dunderhead.

"We wouldn't." Adrian insisted. "It's too amusing to watch Draco be irritated at the lot of us."

"You find it amusing when your friend is annoyed with you?" I asked, my voice slightly sarcastic, "Ginny does too!"

Three pairs of eyes slid to Ginny and she nodded a few times, grinning as if I'd just paid her a massive compliment.

I rolled my eyes at her, aware that I make that movement of grudging amusement far too often, and shook my head, putting a forkful of pasta into my mouth.

"So can I?" Ginny asked me excitedly and I blinked.

"Can you _what_?"

"Can I watch you 'talk' to Malfoy about our secret?"

"Why the air quotes?" I asked indignantly, even though I would have put them in as well.

"I love listening to you two banter—it's such amusing foreplay."

Blaise, Theo, and Adrian all simultaneously choked on their dinner, their arms wide-spread out in front of them as they coughed away at the food lodged in their throats and tried not to lose their balance on the bench.

"It. Is. _Not._ Foreplay." I hissed at my best friend, flicking my wand at the three Slytherins and watching as their breathing returned to normal. "And _no_, you may not watch."

Ginny shrugged, clearly undeterred by my hostile attitude, and shared a look with Luna and the two of them immediately started giggling.

I sighed loudly at the pair of girls I called my best friends and glared at the boys, silently daring them to make a comment about Ginny's insane joke.

"And now you've gotten Pucey and Nott under with whatever it is that you've been working on," Dean commented as he, Neville, and Seamus settled themselves down near our group.

"It's quite scary how easily you're managing to invade the house of the serpent." Seamus continued.

"Almost. . ._Slytherin_ like," Neville completed, grinning at me as I moved my scowl to him for bringing up his insult two weeks prior.

"'Mione," Ginny cooed, "Drink some coffee, you're scowling too much."

"It's because I hang around you lot," I retorted, but I took the coffee she was handing me and sipped it quietly, watching my three Slytherin recruits, my Ravenclaw best friend, and my fellow Gryffindors get along as if they'd been friends for years.

Three cups of coffee and half a sandwich later, the whole lot of us separated by house, the boys leading the way towards the tower, Ginny and I following along behind, at least twenty feet away, giggling madly at the details of her and Harry's most recent date.

"I can_not_ believe you hinted proposal," I told her disbelievingly. "Ginny. . .you're _seventeen_."

"I know!" She insisted. "I'm not saying we'd get married right away, but I'd love to be able to say that I'm engaged to Harry Potter."

"You and every other girl in the wizarding world," I smirked and she grinned widely.

"Too right you are, 'Mione."

I could tell Ginny wanted desperately to bring up the subject of Malfoy's case, but instead of just letting her speak her mind like I normally did, I pretended not to notice. Talking of the case stressed me out far too much. She'd probably bring it up later anyway.

We didn't bother sitting with Neville, Dean, and Seamus in the common room, instead the pair of us went straight up to our dorm. I dropped my bag at the corner of my bed and walked quickly into the loo, turning on the shower and stripping myself of my clothing.

The scalding water burned hot against my skin as I stepped under it, and I let out a stream of quietly hissed swears, but didn't move to turn the cold water on. After a few moments, the water became the perfect temperature; hot enough to relax me, yet not so hot that it burned me. I stood there for Merlin knows how long, letting the water run over my body, long after the shampoo was gone from my hair and the soap gone from myself.

Finally, when I closed my eyes for a moment and it took some effort to get my lids back up, I turned the water off, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around my frame, looking at the blob of my reflection in the fogged mirror.

"'Mione?" Ginny asked as I stepped out of the bathroom fully clothed, rubbing my hair dry with my green towel. I raised my eyebrows signaling for her to continue. "How are you going to talk to Malfoy?"

I smiled at her, and saw as she let out a sigh of relief—I wasn't angry at her for bringing it up again.

"I'm just going to spring it on him," I said, deciding as I spoke. "He'll get all defensive, and he'll tell me to keep my nosy mudblood nose out of his business, and we'll yell and then he'll storm off and sulk for a few days, completely ignoring Blaise, Adrian, and Theo. I'm not too sure what'll happen after that, but I'm crossing my fingers for him agreeing to do the interview, because if he doesn't, he's likely to get sentenced to Azkaban."

Ginny blinked at me. "You think he'll call you a nosy mudblood?"

"I _am_ a nosy mudblood, Gin," I informed her, "but in a good way."

"Don't call yourself a mudblood, 'Mione." she snapped at me. "It's not true."

"But I _am_." I insisted, "It just doesn't mean that I'm any better or worse than anyone else. Mudblood is just a term, Gin, it's the way people use it that makes it hateful."

"So. . .you don't mind being called _that_?"

"Not really," I shrugged. "Not anymore. I've been called that so many times that it doesn't hurt anymore."

"Well I will never use that term on you as long as I live," She said adamantly and I shrugged again.

"I'm not telling you to. I was just saying."

Ginny sighed, realizing that she wasn't going to win this one, and moved towards the bathroom. A few moments later, I heard the water turn on and I opened up my book, my eyes scanning the familiar words quickly.

It was hours later, when the candles in the dorm were long since blown out, and the breathing of my four dorm mates was paced and heavy.

I slowly slipped out of my bed, ignoring my slippers and leaving the dorm, my bare feet cold against the freezing marble, but my slippers made an odd sort of scuffling noise when I walked in them, and I wasn't particularly in the mood to get caught out of bed after hours.

I left the deserted common room quite quickly, closing the portrait carefully but hastily, and started my way soundlessly down the darkened corridor.

I guess creeping around after hours with Harry and Ron had gotten to me—it seemed so natural to become one with the shadows and explore the familiar castle by wandlight.

I wasn't paying attention to where my feet were leading me, and all too soon, I found myself atop the Astronomy tower, my arms wrapped around myself tightly, my feet wishing that I'd worn something on them to keep them warm. A light breeze was playing with my hair that I'd left down, and I smiled slightly, closing my eyes and leaning forward against the railing.

"Dammit—Granger, why'd you have to be here?"

My eyelids flew open, and I whirled around to face the irritated blonde man in front of me who was clutching the door knob like the picture of casual, but his knuckles were glowing white from the strain he was exerting.

"It's not like I _knew_ you'd come up here for a midnight stroll, Malfoy," I snapped back.

"I _always _come up here." He hissed. "Go find a different hiding spot—this one's taken."

I curled my fingers around the railing when I realized that the blasted potion was edging me forward, and glared at him. "I'm fairly certain you don't own the astronomy tower, Malfoy, so, while I'm here, it's _you_ who's going to have to find a different hiding spot."

"I'm not hiding." He retorted angrily, scooting back again and further tightening his grip on the poor doorknob.

"I think you are." I said smugly, mildly pleased that he was growing more irritated by the words that were coming from my mouth.

"As opposed to you?" He finally asked sarcastically, "I don't suppose you're not hiding either—_no_, Gryffindors are too bloody _brave_ to go into hiding."

"Only you would be able to say that and make it sound like an insult," I praised sardonically, "Congrats."

"There's no other way to make it sound," he replied, "You and Potter running around giving up your own lives to help others? Disgusting."

I blinked—he couldn't possibly know. The boys wouldn't tell him, and, as far as I'm aware, Narcissa and Lucius want me to be the one to share the news.

"You think I don't see you two running around at the ministry?" He threw at me. "We may be Malfoys, and our name may have been stained beyond cleaning, but we still frequent the ministry."

"Oh, Malfoy," I said, laughing and hoping that it didn't sound as nervous to him as it did to me. For all my confidence with Ginny and Luna and Blaise and Theo and Adrian, there was another reason as to why I didn't want to tell Malfoy—his reaction had the potential to be terrifying. "Silly, naïve _Malfoy_. If only you knew exactly what Harry and I were _wasting our lives _on. Then, maybe, you wouldn't be so quick to judge."

"This has to do with that blasted secret of yours that you've got Theo and Blaise and Adrian running to your beck and call, doesn't it?" He hissed, and I smiled slightly. He was jealous that his friends were abandoning him for me. Not that they were, but I supposed he didn't know that.

"A lot more than you think." I responded instead, before blinking and recalling what he'd said earlier. "Stained beyond cleaning? That's not true."

"I almost forgot," He snapped irritably, "You Gryffindors have the inane ability to see the good that's not there."

For a split second, I forgot about the nagging at my naval that was tugging me towards the man in front of me, and I released the bars that I'd been clutching on so desperately. I wanted to be closer to him so my next words would have more effect.

But as soon as the bar slid through my grasp, my feet were leading me straight to him, and his hands were off the doorknob and around my waist, and we were in the same position as earlier, but no one was there to save us this time 'round. We were inches from each other and his hands were gripping my hips firmly and I was too surprised.

We just stared at each other. Even though the potion was wearing off by now, there was still enough in our systems to be unable to move properly when we were this close to one another. Our faces were getting closer and closer and I could feel the fabricated electricity in the air.

Finally, I moved my hands to his chest and held them there firmly. "Nothing is broken beyond repair." I breathed to him, before using all of my inner strength and self-resolve and pushing away from him, breaking out of his gentle-but-firm hold of my waist and backing up through the doorway of the astronomy tower.

I took the stairs two at a time, desperate to get away from him because I knew that if he got near me again while the potion was still swimming in my veins, I wouldn't be able to keep myself from kissing him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"I _so_ don't want to go to classes today," I moaned the next morning when Ginny decided to drag me out of bed as she usually did.

"Why?" She asked curiously, "You can't _possibly_ still be tired, Hermione. I know you haven't slept properly in the last three years or so," I snorted at that and she ignored me, continuing. "But you went to bed at eight."

"I also got up at about one in the morning and wandered around the school for a couple hours." I mumbled evasively and I watched from under my covers as she blinked and slipped in my bed with me, asking excitedly what exactly it was that I'd done during my midnight stroll.

"Nothing much," I told her unconvincingly and there was a tinkling laugh from my left and the both of us stuck our heads out from under my blanket and saw Luna, standing there in her uniform.

"You lot aren't very creative with your passwords." She informed us happily, slipping into my bed on my other side and the all of us were scrunched together so no one fell out of the tiny four poster that was made for one.

"You managed to guess it?" Ginny asked curiously. "No one ever manages to guess them no matter how obvious they are."

"Who was the smart one who decided that you lot would use the word _amour_ for your password?"

"That would be McGonagall," Ginny said after giggling, "But Hermione's got a story and she doesn't want to share it."

"I shouldn't have to share everything with you two," I protested weakly. "There are things I'd like to keep to myself for a bit."

"Well, unfortunately for you," Ginny snapped, her voice filled with mock-pity, "This is not a choice you can make. You're telling us."

"Come on, 'Mione," Luna pleaded quietly, looking at me with wide silvery puppy-dog eyes and I rolled my eyes at the pair of them.

"I ended up at the astronomy tower." I told them. "Malfoy showed up a few minutes later. We had a scream-fest, and then I left."

Ginny searched my carefully-composed face and I made sure to keep it absolutely clean. I wasn't lying, _per se_, I was merely withholding some of the truths.

"Fine." She said after a while. "There's something else, but we won't force it out of you. Now come on, we've got that new ministry class first thing, and I heard from McGonagall that she thinks something big is going to happen today."

"I don't want to go to that class," I moaned again, rolling over into the empty space that was there when Ginny got up to go find my uniform, "Or any classes in general."

"For someone who wanted to come back for her final year, you really are being a baby about it," Ginny commented, chucking my skirt at my face when I looked up to glare at her for the insult. Luna just continued to lounge in my bed as I finally dragged myself out and in the direction of the showers.

Twenty minutes later, I was dressed haphazardly in my uniform, my hair air-drying and a million times curlier than usual. My clothes were clinging uncomfortably to my still-damp skin, and Ginny shoved me out of the door before I managed to get both of my ballet flats on my feet, the second one still in my hand.

"Come on, Gin," Luna appeased when we got into the corridor and she'd started half-dragging me towards the Great Hall. "At least let her get her other flat on her foot."

I shot her grateful look and ripped my arm out of my best friend's grip, fixing my shirt that had ridden up when she'd yanked me through the portrait hole. Finally, I dropped my shoe to the ground and slipped my foot into it quickly before she set off, pulling the both of us along after her.

"I look like Medusa," I murmured as we passed a mirror and a peal of laughter rang from the red-head's lips. Luna just looked amused.

"It's not so bad," Luna tried to comfort, but she didn't look too convinced and I shot her a wry look.

"Whoa," Blaise said, he, Adrian and Theo ditching Malfoy at the doors and moving towards us, much to the surprise of their blonde friend.

"Close your eyes," Theo said jokingly, "Someone let Medusa out."

I shot him a withering glare, stabbing at my strawberries bitterly.

"I sort of like them," Adrian said thoughtfully, poking his finger through one of my curls and grinning as I swatted him away with my fork.

"She was out all night with Malfoy," Ginny whispered none-too-softly to Blaise and the latter's fork slipped out of his grip and onto the table with a clatter that sent maple syrup splattering everywhere. He ignored it, gaping at me, to the bewilderment of Adrian and Theo.

"What?" Adrian asked blankly after a few moments of silence. "_What_, Blaise?"

"You. . .did. . ._not_. . ."Blaise got out, directing his half-question at me.

I scowled at Ginny, who looked all too amused at the trouble she'd caused for me. "I didn't," I offered to Blaise who gasped and drew in a huge breath of air as if he hadn't been breathing while he stared at me.

"You're a moron," I told him, half-fondly as Theo and Adrian just continued to look back and forth between the two of us.

"What's going on?" Theo asked flatly. "Why did Blaise just almost have an aneurism?"

"Ginny's spreading more crap around," I retorted, sticking a strawberry in my mouth and chewing it as my friend took up the reigns of explaining.

"I implied that she slept with Malfoy," She said bluntly and two different drinks sprayed an unfortunate Blaise in the face as both Adrian and Theo did wonderful spit-takes at that information.

"Did you have to say it when they were drinking?" Blaise whined and I laughed, flicking my wand at him so he was dry again. "Thanks," He added to me and I grinned.

"Medusa is smiling again," Theo praised. "We should spit on Blaise more often."

Ginny, Luna, and I giggled at that and Blaise shrugged, a grin on his own face as well.

"Such a pretty smile," He complimented me and I felt a bit of heat rush to my cheeks. "Pity it's not used too much anymore."

I felt my smile falter for just a second. Did I really not smile that much anymore?

"No worries," Adrian cut in smoothly, giving me a reassuring half-smirk of his own, "we know it's from the stress of being the great Hermione Granger."

"Great?" I asked blankly and his half smirk turned to a full one as he extended that day's Daily Prophet.

"Oh my god." I breathed, staring at the text-box in the upper corner with mild horror. "What the hell?"

_**Hermione Granger: Savior or Scarlet Woman?**_

"That's blunt." Ginny commented, reading over my shoulder and I rolled my eyes at her. "Really cuts to the chase."

"I'm not a _scarlet woman_!"

"We never said you were." Theo said defensively. "Read it out loud so we don't have to keep passing it around."

"_Hermione Granger_:" I read flatly, "_Savior or scarlet woman? Miss Granger, an incredibly ambitious girl, has been seen with quite the hoard of men in the months following the Great War_."

"Okay, first," Ginny interrupted, "The only _man_ you've been around is Mr Malfoy, and that's just creepy."

"What are we?" Blaise asked sardonically.

"_You_ are seventeen year old _boys_," She retorted. "Not men."

"Draco is younger than us," Adrian mused quietly.

"_Anyway_," Luna said firmly as Blaise opened his mouth to retort.

"_From Mr Potter, the Chosen One, who we believed to be in a relationship with Miss Weasley, who she is seen with almost every night, to Mr Weasley, who she meets every weekend._ Oi—I meet him _with_ Harry."

"Look," Theo said, smirking at me, "We just want to see our names in print. Continue reading."

"_She has also been reported hanging off of one Mr Zabini, as well as flirting heavily with Mr Longbottom, Mr Finnegan, Mr Thomas, Mr Nott, Mr Pucey and in the arms of Mr Malfoy. Let us not forget her relationship in her fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with both Mr Potter and Mr Krum. Even so, this is very shocking behavior for our war hero, and it only makes us wonder: how much of Hermione Granger do we not know?_"

I finished in the same deadpan voice that I'd started with and there was a silence. And then Ginny burst into laughter, her frame shaking so much that she'd have fallen off the bench had Theo not caught her in time.

"I'm up_set_." I said sulkily. "Way to ruin my morning, Skeeter."

Blaise's lips twitched and I pouted at him.

And then Luna was giggling along with Ginny's howling laughter, and Adrian was chuckling and Theo was grinning and I sighed.

"_What_?"

"They mentioned you in the arms of Draco." Theo explained when my frustration did it for Blaise and he, too, started chuckling like a moron.

I slapped my hand to my face. "They also said I hang off of Blaise and flirt heavily with the pair of you!"

"But only the part with Draco was _true_." Theo insisted, "That was the only bit of this thing that was true."

"I hate being Hermione Granger." I muttered bitterly, balling up that page from the paper and putting it in the jug of pumpkin juice, poking it viciously with my fork.

"So you heard, then?" Neville asked curiously, sitting next to Luna and speaking to all of us. "That Hermione is apparently a scarlet woman?"

I frowned at him and he shrugged, holding up his hands defensively, but unable to keep the amused grin from his face as he buttered his toast. "Hey, I just found out that you've spent this year _flirting _with me."

"And us," Dean supplied, squeezing himself in between Theo and Adrian, Seamus sitting on Blaise's left.

"And all of this year's seventh year Slytherins." Seamus added, smirking. "Except Goyle."

"And my boyfriend _and _brother." Ginny finished, high-fiving with Seamus as they all took joy in my pain.

"Oi, so what was the true part?" Neville asked good-naturedly after a few seconds.

"What?"

"Theo was saying that something was the _only_ true part in the article."

"I was in the arms of Malfoy." I muttered darkly and he choked on his toast. "From the potion that Blaise exploded."

"They were so close to shagging in the entrance hall," Blaise said gleefully, "I had to drag her away."

I smacked him on his arm and rolled my eyes. "You weren't there last night." I said flatly and Ginny gaped at me.

"There _was_ something else!" She said happily. "I was _right_!"

"Yup," I retorted, "I was in the astronomy tower, like I told you, and he came up, and we yelled, and I forgot we still had the potion in our systems, because I went to leave, but he was still in the doorway, and instead of pushing past him, I ended up in his arms again. Of course, after a few moments, I pushed away and ran away."

There was a bewildered silence and I smiled faintly. "Thank Merlin the potion wore off by now."

"But. . ." Theo began softly, a thoughtful look on his face. "Didn't you say, Blaise—"

He stopped suddenly and I shot my eyes to Blaise who was shaking his head furiously. He noticed my gaze and stopped, giving me an incredibly unconvincing innocent look and I let it go.

"Look," Ginny said after a while of chewing and broken talk of Quidditch, "We need to get to that class if we don't want to be late. Snakes, are you sitting with us today or no?"

"Nah," Blaise said after they considered it, "Draco misses us, no matter how much he's pretending to be angry. There's only so much Daph-n-Pans that someone can take."

"Daph-n-Pans?" Luna asked curiously and he shrugged.

"They're actually a lot like you three." Adrian mused. "I bet you'd get along if Hermione wasn't flirting with all of their potential husbands."

With a wicked grin and a smooth duck from the piece of bread that I'd thrown at his head, he left the table, a chuckling Theo following behind, and Blaise after them after pressing a brotherly kiss on my cheek in efforts to calm me.

"Let's go," Ginny said, standing, and Luna and I followed, leaving the boys to finish their breakfast as fast as possible to get to the class that started in five minutes.

I smiled slightly—McGonagall had confirmed that the professor had a new announcement and, despite myself, I was insanely curious.

It was Ginny's turn on the desk, and she sighed resignedly and hopped on, crossing her legs tightly as Luna and I settled into the two chairs. Beside me was my bag and I held it close to my side as I listened to Luna and Ginny banter about Ginny's date with Harry—apparently she'd told him that she wouldn't mind having sex with him and he choked on his food and turned beet red.

There wasn't a lot of chatter in the classroom today, and I glanced around, avoiding catching eyes with Blaise. He'd been acting strange at breakfast and I wanted to know why, but it took a lot to get Blaise to lose his composure and the fact that something _I'd _done had managed it scared me a bit.

Therefore, like the coward I wasn't known for being, I decided to avoid him. It worked well since Malfoy had accosted his friends in the corridor and I all but shoved them in the direction of the blonde in efforts to keep my distance from Blaise.

"Do either of you know what's up with Blaise?" I muttered to my friends and they looked at each other before shrugging. I sighed and glanced up at the professor's desk, startled when I saw Professor Harris sitting at her seat, calmly watching us.

"Hello class," She said pleasantly when we finally all realized that she was there and shut up the little chatter there was. "Some of you may have wondered exactly why our classes have consisted of very little group work thus far into the year."

There was a faint rippling of grumbling, and Ginny raised her eyebrows pointedly at me to which I poked my tongue out at her.

"As you are all aware," she continued serenely, "the ministry has decided that, in the hope of preventing another outbreak of the _recent disaster_, it would be a welcome addition to your education, a class that will teach you the ways of running a healthy family."

I uncrossed and re-crossed my legs, leaning forward just slightly, curiosity taking over all other thoughts in my mind.

"Today we will start by reading these copies of the selected ministry reading material. I am quite sure that it is the only reading you will be doing through the course of the term."

I flicked through the pages that had been Muggle-y stapled together. There were about ten, double sided, and filled with what I gathered as slightly useless information.

"There will be a. . ._test_ of sorts on the information," Our professor continued after the shuffling of the papers ceased. "Be warned—this test is not one you will be able to pass easily. It will take place eight days from now in the Great Hall during the time of which this class is to take place. You will meet there. Study hard and study long—you may find yourselves regretting it if you do not."

The last ten minutes of the class was spent in silence, as we read, and in my case, re-read the packet of information. It was incredibly pointless, talking of cooking with a Muggle stove, raising children, careers, getting drivers' licenses, and other various home-life activities.

Basically, it was telling us how a normal family was meant to be run.

After reading it a third time, I glanced around the room absentmindedly and accidently caught eyes with Malfoy who'd been positively glaring at his sheets of paper. I couldn't imagine why—they weren't at all insulting to people with families that had dark pasts.

I returned my gaze to the file that was just ever so slightly poking out of my bag. The trial was exactly a week from today, and if I wanted to get the Malfoys declared innocent, I had to get bloody Malfoy to give an interview. His parents had already answered all of my questions and Mr Lovegood was being kinder than he needed to be by waiting until the day before the trial to publish his paper.

A piece of parchment was deftly slipped onto the packet that I was no longer even pretending to read.

_**You better get on with it.**_

I rolled my eyes at Ginny and she raised her eyebrows. 'This isn't something to take lightly' she mouthed and I sighed.

It wasn't like me to put things off until the last minute, but I honestly had no idea how to get Malfoy to agree to this. _This_ was like asking Grawp to _not_ rip out the trees from the ground when he got bored or lonely. It didn't happen. It was madness to even consider that Malfoy would do this for me, and waiting until the last minute was _not_ a good way to get it done and over with.

"And now you will please read _this_," Professor Harris said quietly, flicking her wand and sending another packet of information over. It held essentially the exact same information written with different wording.

Fun.

I let out a massive sigh and swiveled my eyes over to Ginny, who was making faces at her paper and not at all looking as if she'd read it, and Luna, who was currently folding the entire packet into some elaborate origami figurine without magic.

"I need to talk to you," I said flatly, tapping Malfoy on his shoulder at the Slytherin table at lunch and looking at my finger for a moment, wrinkling my nose and wiping it off my shirt for effect. Yes, I am being a bitch. This is the boy who pretended that he got sick because we breathed the same air.

Across from him, Blaise was watching us with mild curiosity, the food in his mouth showing as it hung open.

"I'm busy." Malfoy retorted and I rolled my eyes, clenching and unclenching my fingers.

"Blaise. I am about to murder your best friend." I growled, and Blaise sighed dramatically.

"If I'm right," Blaise addressed Malfoy, "And I think I am, this is about that secret that I enjoy keeping from you."

Malfoy, to his credit, did a fabulous job of keeping his face composed, but I saw the irritated curiosity blazing in his eyes.

"Now." I said before lowering my voice drastically, "Or you might end up with a stint in Azkaban."

"Is that a _threat_, Granger?" He hissed.

"It's a _fact_, you prat," I snapped, "I'm the one who's in charge of your family's damn case."

Blaise snorted as Malfoy dropped his fork and slowly turned his head to look at me.

"I thought you were going to break it to him slowly," Blaise commented after Malfoy just continued gazing at me for a few moments.

"The trial is in two days." I informed him, as if he wasn't already completely aware of that fact, "I need Malfoy's interview done by tonight so I can send it to Mr Lovegood and the issue of the Quibbler will be printed the morning of the trial. There is no more time to be slow about it."

"I think he's in shock," Adrian said happily, sitting down next to Blaise and Theo nodded, poking Malfoy on his upper arm.

"So, Hermione told him then?"

"You all _knew_ this?" Malfoy hissed, turning back to his friends whose eyes all widened.

"Now, wait just a second," Adrian began defensively, "We were enlisted for help. Backup, if you will."

"And Weaslette and Lovegood knew as well?" Malfoy continued, talking over the end of Adrian's sentence.

"Obviously," Blaise said flatly. "They're the biggest help."

"I bet the entire bloody Gryffindor house knows," Malfoy snapped darkly and I raised my eyebrows.

"More Slytherins know than Gryffindors," I retorted right back at him, a hand on my hip, "And if you want to keep it that way, I suggest you come with me somewhere else so we can talk and not do this here."

He stood up abruptly, pushing past me and storming out of the Great Hall, his three friends rising immediately after. Theo gently dragged me along as we followed wherever the hell Malfoy was leading us to.

Five minutes later found us inside the Room of Requirement. Blaise, Adrian, and Theo standing at the very edges of the perimeter, watching. Malfoy had his back to me, and he was pacing. I followed him with my eyes as he went back and forth. Back and forth. The silence was deafening.

"So you finally figured out another way to rub your nose into my family's business," he finally hissed and I refrained from rolling my eyes.

"That didn't sound much like a _thank you_," I retorted after a moment and he turned sharply, glaring at me with such fury that I flinched.

"Why would I _thank_ you, you filthy little mudblood?" He snapped, his voice raising with every word, "Why would I _thank _you for getting into my family's private affairs. Did you expect something in return? Did you expect us to be in your debt? The Malfoy family does not owe anyone anything."

"I didn't do it to put you in deb—"

"Did you do it to one up on us?" He continued, completely talking over me.

My eyebrows shot up. "One up on you?" I asked blankly, completely bewildered. Honestly, if I'd wanted to do that, I'd have already succeeded. It's not something I particularly enjoy, but my name is nearly as famous as Harry's these days. The Malfoys, well, not so much.

"You think you're better than us, don't you?"

I rolled my eyes. I couldn't help it. Part of me was just so _angry_ that he had the audacity to say these things to me after all I'd been doing for him and his family the last few months, but another part of me was just horribly amused. This boy is not nearly as smart as people say he is.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me!" He snapped and I was suddenly reminded strongly of my mother.

"Calm down, you little git," Ginny cut in and I shot her a grateful look. I honestly had no idea how to handle this. I wondered what happened to the girl who would have snapped back with a witty insult of her own each time. Now all I wanted to do was cry because I'd been yelled at so harshly.

Damn. What's wrong with me?

"Stay out of it, Weaselette." Malfoy said dismissively and Ginny flared up.

"I will most certainly _not_ stay out of it, you insufferable ferret!" She exclaimed indignantly and Malfoy stared at her, completely bewildered. "We have spent the last two and a half months working our _arses_ off trying to keep _you_ and _your_ family out of Azkaban, you little ungrateful _toerag_, and you are going to _cooperate_ or get _shipped off_ to _prison_. And don't expect any sympathy when the Dementors _suck_ the _little soul_ you've got left out of you, because we'll just be _laughing_ at the dumb little boy who didn't know how to just _shut up and be grateful_ for someone who decided to help him out of the _good of her heart_!"

Her voice stopped and she took a couple of calming breaths, smiling slightly at the incredibly tense, yet still very awkward silence that followed her rant.

"So you'll do it?" Ginny asked after a few moments, her voice completely transforming from outraged and indignant to sweet and warm and I could see all four boys thrown at how quickly she was able to transform her mood. "Great." And she smiled brightly at Malfoy before winking at me and going over to plop down in a nearby arm chair.

I slowly sank into the one next to her, watching as Malfoy looked around, hiding his confusion at how quickly things had taken a different turn well. He finally sighed and settled into the chair on Blaise's right and I marveled how Luna was on Blaise's other side and Theo was next to me, Adrian lounging on the coffee table that had materialized in between us. A quill appeared in the air in front of me and I snatched it before it fell to the ground, catching the pad of parchment as well.

And then the interview commenced.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Ginny grinned slightly at the cover of the _Quibbler_, holding it up in front of her.

I smiled faintly and Luna looked most impressed at the incredibly uncomfortable-looking family picture of the Malfoys that was occupying the cover. I'd dug it out of one of the files, and _maybe_ it was from our fourth year and Malfoy was fourteen in it, but it worked. Sort of. It wasn't terrible.

It almost made me feel sad, that picture. I knew for a fact that Lucius and Narcissa loved each other very much and they both would do anything for their son. No matter how many times I went over it in my head, I couldn't figure out how the family had fallen so far down below.

"You couldn't find a better picture, Granger?" Malfoy snapped and I smirked at him, erasing any feelings of sad from my expression.

"I was going to send in this one," I said flatly, offering the picture of him and his father in the standard Death Eater robes, faces paler than usual, masks in hand. It was from a memory of his mother's and I'd merely taken a camera into the pensive and snapped a picture.

Of course, _that_ picture wouldn't have done them any good at all. I wasn't actually going to send it, but it was something that I'd kept separated from the bundles of pictures that I still had in the folder in my bag. I couldn't stop looking at it. It had that sort of cruel beauty that entranced and captured victims.

"Where did you even get this?" He hissed venomously, tearing it out of my hands and splitting it down the middle, incinerating it with his wand and watching with mild contentedness as the ashes fell into my bowl of oatmeal.

"Not any of your concern, Malfoy," I told him calmly, flicking through the magazine. Most of it was dedicated to the—surprisingly—long interview of the three Malfoy family members, all having been done individually, but there were a few articles in the beginning and the end about mundane things like quarblecacks and snorksacks and the like.

"Not any of my concern," Malfoy started angrily, but I turned back my back on him to face Ginny once more, affectively cutting him off.

"The story is out to the public by now," Ginny mused, glancing at her watch. We'd received it several hours early because of our role in helping with the main article. Sure enough, owls were gliding into the Great Hall, each one dropping a magazine in front of a student. I glanced back and Malfoy's mouth had frozen in a half-open sort of way as he stared with an impassive expression on his face at the slowly growing curiosity at the _Quibbler_s.

"Come on, guys," Luna said after a few seconds, "We've got to get to class." Her words were barely heard over the rising din of the students as they spotted the infamous blonde Slytherin on the cover of the magazine with his parents.

It took a few tries, but Blaise finally managed to coax his best mate out of the Hall, the five of us following behind as we all headed in the direction of the charms classroom.

Luna went off in a completely separate direction right after we exited the great hall. I wondered where she was going, but shrugged. Luna did as Luna does.

Blaise didn't sit with me throughout the classes that I had with him. It made me feel lonely and the fact that Harry and Ron weren't around was emphasized, but I understood that he needed to be with his mate.

The trial was this evening and I didn't think I could do anything else.

We were in Arithmancy when a first year came jogging into the classroom, his eyes going wide as he took in the load of super-seventh-years staring at him.

"I have an, um, urgent note for Hermione Granger," he announced after a beat of silence, waving around a rolled up piece of parchment.

"That would be me," I said gently, raising my hand.

"I know," he replied quickly before flushing. "I mean, uh, here."

And with that, the kid thrust the roll at me and all but sprinted out of the classroom.

"Miss Granger, would you like to step out to read your note?" Professor Vector asked me quietly and I bobbed my head, slipping off my stool and walking to the back of the room towards the door.

It was just closing when I heard her call the class back to attention and I merely leaned against the wall outside the classroom, sliding down until I was seated on the cold marble ground, my knees up in front of me, my legs pulled close.

I was almost scared to open the letter, and my weariness intensified when I saw that it was from the ministry. What could they possibly want?

**Dear Miss Granger,**

**As you may be aware, an article about Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco has been published in the popular wizarding magazine, **_**The Quibbler**_**, and this anonymous writer has thrown the ministry into absolute chaos. You are under strict obligations to keep the next part of the letter to yourself. We at the ministry believe that you, Miss Granger, will provide ample evidence in the prosecution against the Malfoys if you were to testify. The trial begins at three p.m. sharp. Floo to the ministry and a representative will show you to the atriums. Do not be late.**

**Sincerely,**

**Waverly Jorkins**

Even after I finished reading the letter, I couldn't remove my eyes from the parchment. _The prosecution against the Malfoys_ kept repeating in my head. After all that work that I did, the ministry wanted me to testify against them. And in reality, I could. It would be quite easy to word the stories so that the Malfoys would be found nothing other than guilty, but then where would that lead? A family stuck in Azkaban when they didn't deserve it.

Obviously the Malfoys weren't saints in the war. I honestly couldn't think of anyone that was. Even I had preformed magic on Muggles—my own parents. _Harry Potter_, the savior of the Wizarding World used Unforgivables quite a bit.

I just stayed there, sitting outside the classroom, staring at the parchment until classmates began pouring out of the classroom, startling me. I deftly rose up onto my feet, clutching the letter with both hands as I followed the general crowd down the staircases and in the direction of the entrance hall where they would all be parting for different classes.

I could only hope that I'd run into Blaise. Malfoy wouldn't even be around to talk to—he was bound to be already at the ministry—and I needed someone to tell me what to do.

"Blaise!" I heard, the voice was panicky and higher than usual and it took a few more cries of the name until I realized that it was my own. Desperate, I pushed through the crowd, half-hearted apologies falling from my lips far too late to be worth anything.

And then, at the other end of the area filled with students, I saw familiar chocolate brown skin and rumpled hair. I surged forward with as much strength as I could, my voice still crying out. I was out of ideas. I had no idea what came next. It used to be Harry and Ron that decided what things to work out, I just figured out the technical areas. This was beyond my extensive book knowledge. This was reality. And I'd thought that after the war, I'd have a better grasp on real life, but it was like I was floating above everyone else, completely separated from my body that was still fighting to reach Blaise.

"'Mione?" Blaise's voice called, curiosity the only thing filling his voice. He didn't even know. He wasn't called to testify for the Malfoys. It made sense. They were family friends. The ministry wouldn't see that as unbiased.

"Blaise." I breathed, throwing my arms around his neck. He was surprise to say the least, but smart enough to know that he needed to get me out of this impossible crowd. He towed me away to a more secluded space and pulled away from my half-throttling grip, holding me out at arms' length and examining my frazzled appearance.

"What.." Blaise began worriedly, "What's happened?"

"This." I managed, thrusting the confidential letter at his chest, completely disregarding the fact that I was meant to keep it secret. Well their fault. They should have charmed it or something. That first year could have read it if he'd wanted.

Blaise's eyes scanned the letter quickly before widening and going back to read it thoroughly. "But you can't…" He trailed off. "That would completely undermine everything we've worked for these last few weeks, not to mention they'll go to prison for sure."

"Don't you think I'm aware?" I bit back, crossing my arms and shaking out my hair from my face. "I don't think this is optional."

"I'll come with," He said promptly and I scoffed.

"Were you hoping that the ministry official would just not notice you standing next to me?"

Blaise growled out of frustration at the whole thing. "'Mione…" He said softly, putting his hands back on my shoulders. "You can't. You cannot let them go to prison. These people, they're like family. I know they're not the most innocent, but they're good people. They've just made dumb decisions in the past. Please."

I stared at him. Blaise never lost composure. That was what I liked about him—that while I was going hysterical over lack of sleep and my apparent looming failure, he would stay calm and collected. But now, he was just as panicked as I was, if not more, and I could feel the old me—the one that I'd been when I was taking care of Ron and Harry and making sure that nothing bad ever happened to them—returning. Slowly creeping in, but she was.

"It'll be fine." I said. "It'll be okay. Really. It'll be good." My voice sounded a bit too hysterical to be reassuring, but Blaise's fingers loosened from their grips on my shoulders. "Blaise…I have to go."

And I backed away from his panicked expression and his terror that his closest friend was about to be thrown into prison forever, his terror that somehow, I would finally fail at something, and the cost would be the freedom of three souls. I walked backwards, keeping eye contact with him until I turned a corridor.

And then I was running. My feet pounded onto the marble floors as I ran as fast as I could to Professor McGonagall's office. I could feel panic whirling inside of me and bile rising in my throat at the possibility that I can't fix this and my legs are pumping faster.

I skidded around corners, pleased that classes were in session. This was not a particular time I wanted to try and keep my composure. I'd already messed up earlier when I was trying to find Blaise.

The headmistress had no classes today—that I knew for a fact—and I needed to get myself to her office.

I spit the password at the gargoyles and they hopped aside, chattering to my back as I took the stairs two at a time. I barged into the office without any knocking, causing McGonagall to look up sharply and take in my shaking form with concern.

"Miss Granger, what is the matter?" she asked.

My voice shook, but sounded determined all the same.

"I need to get to the ministry."

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><p><strong>I just want you all to know how much it means to me that you've read this far already, and I'm sooo sorry about the wait for this chapter. I do hope you enjoyed it either way.<strong>

**I also made a tumblr post with answers to all the reviews I currently have as of 8:35PM February 27, 2012, Mountain Time. I'll make another one eventually, should I actually get more reviews and such. Here's the link you guys, and thanks: **/89urdet****


	10. Chapter 10

**Reviews Answered:**

**ASJS: **I enjoy cliffy's because I'm evil. I'm glad you like it though! :)

**Beautiful-Liar13: **I dunno. They might just like making things complicated for themselves.

**She with the hazel eyez: **Blaise is terrified for his friend. That fear is paralyzing him.

**Enjoy this chapter, guy! And please review some more if you feel up to it... :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

"But I don't understand," McGonagall repeated as I stumbled towards the grates. I'd long since managed to transfigure my school robes into simple grey robes. My heals were clicking against the marble hearth of the fireplace as I tapped them impatiently.

"Read this." I said finally, thrusting the letter to her before sweeping into the fireplace with a shout of '_Ministry of Magic_'.

I stumbled out of the grate and barely caught myself before I fell to my knees. Brushing my robes down flat and pulling my hair into a reasonably looking bun, I glanced around the huge marble interior of the ministry, looking for the official who was supposed to meet me.

The fact that I've yet to be here without something bad happening or about to happen is not lost on me.

I kept looking around, curious at the commotion at the other end of the long hallway. With a shifty-eyed glance in the direction where my guide was supposed to come from, I snuck towards the large gathering of people at the entrance of the Ministry, keeping to the shadows expertly.

And when I got to the entrance and managed to push my way through enough to see what was happening, I was appalled.

The Malfoys were being led towards the entrance-way, their hands each bonded behind their backs, their heads bent low as the huge crowd around them jeered and spit at them as if they were cattle.

The two Aurors escorting them inside made no move to stop the harassment and I felt the bile rising in my stomach at the disgust I had for these people.

I was just about to intervene when I saw a very familiar head of light blonde hair push through the crowd on the other side.

"Draco!" Luna was cooing, darting towards the Malfoys who all looked bewildered. She stopped in front of them and smiled serenely.

"Oh-um...yes?" Malfoy managed and Luna beamed.

"I just wanted to say thanks to the three of you for keeping Dean, Griphook, Mr Olivander, and I alive in your dungeons."

The crowd was silent, waiting.

"Oh-well it was...it was no big deal." Malfoy replied quietly.

"We were all prisoners there," Luna continued, seemingly oblivious at how her words were affecting the crowd. But I knew better. She'd spent loads of time with Malfoy. If she wanted to thank him privately, she would have done it then. "You kept us alive. I'll forever be grateful. Thank you, Mr and Mrs Malfoy. Draco."

And then Luna did the most surprising thing of all. She threw her arms around Lucius Malfoy's shoulders, hugging him tightly.

It took a moment for the Aurors to snap out of their shock-how's that for terrible reaction time? Harry needs to get that checked-before they jumped in, removing my blonde friend from Mr Malfoy and shoving her back in the crowd.

"Back off, little girl," The darker haired one said unkindly, but Luna hardly spared a glance in his direction, waving to the still-flabbergasted Malfoys before disappearing into the crowd once more.

I'd just allowed myself a small victory smile to uncurl at the edges of my lips when I felt a hand close around my upper arm.

I gasped as nails dug into my skin and turned my head sharply to see a furious-looking Ministry worker.

"You were meant to stay by the fire grate." he hissed and I just raised my eyebrows, completely unwilling to cry out in pain as his fingers bit deeper when he pulled me away.

The man had me all but running to keep up with his fast pace until we reached the lifts. I stood next to him in it completely silent, my thoughts whirling.

There was no way I could testify against the Malfoys. Forget all of my work-they were bloody innocent to top it all off.

The lift dinged and I was shoved out of the blasted thing with just as much gentleness as the Aurors had shoved Luna just minutes previously. Talk about unprofessionalism-these ministry workers were brutes.

The big brooding man dragged me to a boring-looking door and threw it open to reveal a minuscule white room with nothing in it save for a plastic blue chair.

"You are to wait here," he sneered, "until it is time for you to testify. Wand, please."

I gaped, but with a flick of his own, my wand flew out from under my robes and into his outstretched hand.

Was I a prisoner? Was this a trick or did the ministry honestly treat people like this?

The door slammed before I had a chance to get two words out of my mouth and I pressed my palms to my head and spun 180 degrees and stared at the highly uncomfortable-looking chair. It was unsteady, one leg shorter than the other three, and the plastic back was cracked in two places.

With a loud sigh, I gingerly lowered myself onto it and waited.

I'd long since succumbed to closing my eyes and mentally running through all of the evidence I'd found and organized for the Malfoy's defense attorney, my head lolling back, my robes shrugged almost completely off and exposing my Gryffindor uniform beneath. On my left arm were four small streaks of red where the ministry official had broken skin with his nails, and I knew I would have a distinctive bruise by tomorrow. I wanted to know why I was being kept in this room, I wanted to be free of the white prison, and I wanted to know what was happening in the trial as I sat about doing nothing. Strong feelings of hopelessness were beginning to whirl up inside my stomach and I tried hard to keep my composure up.

My head snapped forward at the sound of a lock clicking, and I'd already regained my senses from the blood-rush by the time the bland white door creaked open.

"Harry?" my voice sounded and he started, blinking behind his glasses before peering closer at me.

"Hermione?" he questioned and I nodded quickly, rising to my feet to throw my arms around his neck.

Suddenly, I was thrown back, my feet stumbling over the stupid chair and causing me to fall flat against the wall and I blinked deliriously in efforts to regain my surroundings once more.

"I-what?" I managed, sitting up and rubbing the bump that was rapidly forming on the back of my head as I studied my friend who looked horrified.

"They said it was precautionary." He offered, his hands fluttering above me. I watched his eyes look torn and noted that he made no effort to try and help me up though he looked as if he wanted to and understanding flooded through me.

"To keep the Aurors from being attacked by wayward prisoners." I finished flatly and he nodded. "So am I actually a prisoner then? Is that what this has come to? Throw the witnesses in prison too?"

Harry shook his head rapidly and made a motion for me to get up. "We can't take long or they'll suspect. I didn't know you'd be here-they never mentioned you by name. You were referred to as 'the testifier'."

I shakily rose to my feet and patted down my uniform before bending and grabbing my robes.

"What is that?" Harry hissed, gesturing for me to follow him out of the door before jabbing a finger in the direction of my stinging left arm.

"Not important." I rushed out, following him down the long corridor, my heals clicking loudly against the marble. "How is the trial going? Do they have a chance?"

"The Wizengamot seems to be about half and half, though more of them are still pushing towards the Malfoys being sentenced."

A sharp breath was sucked through my lips and I pulled on my robes all the way, moving quickly to catch up to Harry in order to walk beside him.

"Harry," I breathed before I stopped abruptly. He motioned to continue but I shook my head frantically. If I got in trouble...I wasn't about to bring Harry down with me. "Nothing." I said unconvincingly at his questioning look and he sighed.

"I can't believe you're here." He said instead and I exhaled loudly.

"Tell me about it. Of all the people to testify against them, they picked me."

"You're not thinking of going for them, are you?" Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth, but I was saved from answering by the two Aurors who were waiting on either side of the huge door. They stepped forward and the each of them grabbed my arms, tugging me through the entrance roughly. I glanced back to see Harry look appalled, but the doors were closed before I could shoot him a reassuring glance.

Good on me-I wasn't too sure if I'd be able to manage that one.

I let my eyes search the enormous wizengamot court room, taking in the hundreds of cloaked witches and wizards seated all around in a stadium-like manner. In the center, behind clearly magical bars, were the Malfoys, all three of them watching with bewildered looks in their eyes as I walked purposefully across the room to the little podium where I was to stand while being questioned.

"Miss Hermione Jean Granger," a voice rang out and I looked around to find a woman seated next to Kingsley reading from a parchment. "Here to testify against the Malfoys for the ministry."

I refused to lock eyes with any member of the blonde family I'd spent so much of my life devoted to protecting from the law. Malfoy's gaze was burning on the side of my face, but I kept my expression carefully neutral.

"Miss Granger," The woman continued and I returned my gaze to her, holding her look steadily, hoping I didn't look nearly as frazzled as I felt. There was just something about this whole thing. I could do research and gather evidence at the drop of a hat, but speaking in front of large crowds was not something I was reasonably good with. And large crowds who were looking to me for reason to put an entire family in prison for the rest of their lives were not at all better on my fraying nerves. The fact that I had no idea how the previous statements had been taken weighed down heavy on my shoulders. Would my words make any impact at all? Would it even be a positive impact?

"Please briefly describe your, ahem, _stay_ at Malfoy manor last winter." The woman continued, her voice too breezy for her to be talking about my being tortured by a very deranged Bellatrix Lestrange.

I cleared my throat, hoping that my voice wouldn't sound as shaky as it should. "Harry, Ron, and I had been staying in a forest." I recited, my quiet voice ringing through the silent hall. "We were on the run looking for—looking for Horcruxes—and Harry had gotten frustrated. We were arguing and Voldemort's name slipped from his lips. He was so angry that it didn't even matter to him. It didn't register that there was a taboo on it." I glanced around the room, watching shock and confusion flit over peoples' faces at the mention of Horcruxes before everyone flinched at Tom Riddle's other name. "Suddenly, there were Snatchers everywhere, and we were running. I'd stuffed my bag in my sock and we were making good time. Spells were flying everywhere and Harry tripped whilst trying to dodge one." I paused, wondering exactly why I was giving out so much information. I'd never spoke of any of this before, choosing to remain completely silent whenever anyone questioned me about it. "The Snatchers were gaining on us and I did the first thing that came to my mind. Harry's face was concealed reasonably well with my Stinging Hex—they didn't recognize him at first. But then one of the Snatchers came out of our tent and held up a newspaper we'd grabbed from a trash bin weeks previously. Our faces were printed across the front page, and with a matchup of me and Ron, they easily realized exactly who the third person was. _The_ Harry Potter."

The words were tumbling from my lips freely and I worked harder to keep my voice completely neutral. They didn't need to know how terrified I'd been for Harry and Ron. They didn't need to know that I'd almost given up. They just needed the facts. "The plans to go to the ministry were forgotten and we were taken to the outside gates of the Malfoy manor quickly. It was the drawing room that we were in, bound with enchanted ropes, a Snatcher behind each of us, holding our heads back by our hair. The Malfoys were brought in. Bellatrix Lestrange was shrieking with glee t the thought that they might have caught Harry Potter and his friends. Draco was called forward to identify us. To make sure."

"Draco Malfoy?" The woman interrupted and I refrained from rolling my eyes. Obviously Draco Malfoy—how many other bloody Dracos are there in the damned world?

But I didn't say that. "Yes," I said instead, "Draco Malfoy. He looked us all in the face. He knew who we were. But he didn't say so. He didn't confirm our identities. A Snatcher came into the room, holding up the Sword of Gryffindor. Bellatrix was furious. She wanted to know where we got it from. She thought we stole it from her vault."

"Did you?" A random ministry official asked and I shook my head, a half-smile twitching at my lips.

"Severus Snape gave it to us," I revealed quietly, and a few people gasped.

"Harry and Ron were thrown into the dungeons and I was left there to be tortured by Bellatrix herself for answers."

"Were you and Mrs Lestrange alone?" A man questioned and I bobbed my head in a 'no' movement. "Please state who else was in the room with you."

"The Malfoys, some Death Eaters." I recited promptly.

"And the Malfoys made no move to stop Bellatrix?" The man continued and I paused for a beat.

"Mr and Mrs Malfoy were unarmed and otherwise unable to stop anything going on." I said finally. "Fighting like a Muggle would be fruitless against multiple armed psychopaths."

"And Draco Malfoy?"

"Mrs Malfoy held him back." I said quietly, still keeping my eyes away from the Malfoys. It was almost unrealistic how much I could remember. I'd thought that by shoving it all away, I'd forget it, but it seemed quite the opposite. "She would not let her son get involved fighting five full-fledged dark wizards."

I watched the man write something down. My eyes were searching his face, but it was as wiped clean of emotion as mine was and I could feel frustration building. He was bald, with hair growing on the sides of his head. All of his hair was a dark grey color, and his eyes were a striking blue. I wondered what he would choose to vote for when it came down to that.

There was a long silence and I wondered what else they could ask of me.

"It sounds quite as if you believe the Malfoys innocent," A woman pointed out and I snapped my eyes to her, taking in her blonde hair and brown eyes. She looked friendly enough, but the sinister tone behind her would-be casualness was worrying me.

"I do," I confirmed. That got the ministry workers' attention. They made varying noises of disbelief, a few of them looking to one another for confirmation that they'd heard correctly.

"We are well aware of Narcissa Malfoy's acts to assist Harry Potter multiple times, but both Lucius Malfoy as well as his son have Dark Marks," The blonde woman continued and I scoffed quietly, trying to keep my temper from building. "What are your thoughts?"

"Draco Malfoy was forced into becoming a Death Eater." I said loudly, my voice firm. "He was to take the place of Lucius Malfoy."

"That may be true," A dark-haired man began, "Lucius Malfoy is a known carrier of the Dark Mark."

"Lucius Malfoy has proven himself on the Order's side. He didn't even fight in the final battle. He did not flee with the rest of the Death Eaters when Voldemort fell."

"He has the Dark Mark." Umbridge's voice snapped finally and I scanned the room until I found her froggy face. It was aged, and I wondered how battered those Centaurs had returned her.

"And I have _this_ branded across _my_left arm." I retorted loudly, pulling up my cloak sleeve non-too-gently and showing my forearm. And there it was, looking for all as if Bellatrix had carved them this morning. Her knife had been poisoned with Dragon Venom. This scar wasn't going away.

Mudblood, scrawled messily across my forearm, the letters a deep red, glared at everyone in the courtroom. I glanced to my left and saw that Mr Malfoy had his face firmly looking in the other direction. Mrs Malfoy had even scrunched her eyes closed. But Malfoy's eyes boared into my arm, his gaze burning.

"A mark on your arm does not distinguish you and your character." I said coldly. I saw Umbridge open her mouth to retort and I raised my voice, not about to let her stop me from talking. "Your blood, your family members, your past-they shouldn't define who you are today."

My voice was unnaturally loud, and I wanted to lower it, but my mouth didn't seem to be listening to my brain. It just kept going in the same loud voice. "Two generations fought in a war-thousands of people died all so that one day, people like me, _Mudbloods_ like me, would be able to grow up and live their lives without someone standing up and telling them that they weren't supposed to have their magic. So that people with Muggle parents could be treated the exact same as people with magical parents. And right now, all of you who are thinking of imprisoning Draco and Lucius Malfoy because of a _mark on their arm_, you're all undoing two generations' worth of fighting. You're standing there and telling them that because of a label, they're guilty. Does that make me, a Mudblood guilty? It shouldn't."

I finally stopped talking and sucked in air from between my teeth. The courtroom was dead silent and I shrank back from the balls of my feet so I was balanced. I wanted to pant because all but yelling all of that out took a lot out of me, but I didn't want to break anyone's trains of thought.

"Very well." the original woman said, her voice cutting through the heavy silence uncomfortably. She avoided looking me in the eyes. "A final decision will be made in twenty four hours. Dismissed."

For a moment, no one moved. And then Umbridge was pushing her bench back, the wood scraping loudly against the stone ground. Her shoes pattered away and the noise seemed to shock everyone into leaving the courtroom.


	11. Chapter 11

**Reviews answered (haha, this is so much easier than a tumblr post):  
>Jessica Lauren Bretten:<strong> Haha, I know, Hermione is really showing the girl power. Wow that sounds lame.  
><strong>Skyler:<strong> I personally hate Umbridge the most in the series.  
><strong>ravenclawlove:<strong> I know I probably should have warned people in the beginning about my OC characters, but I forgot. Fair warning to anyone who actually reads these, my characters are OC. I am very glad you like the story and don't worry, this is just the beginning.  
><strong>Gaara's Plaything:<strong> Me too, to be completely honest with you.  
><strong>Kalyxia:<strong> Yay, thanks! :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

It had taken hours, but I finally managed to get myself down to the holding cells. Being buddies with Harry certainly helped though, so I was grateful to him for that. I stood outside of the door, oddly nervous. The trial had happened—there was legitimately nothing else I could do. I tugged at my uniform, flicking my eyes to the door handle. Harry had left me alone at the door, promising that I'd have privacy to speak to the Malfoys alone, but it seemed like his promise was useless—I couldn't bring myself to even step foot inside.

I could recall every single word I'd heard spoken in the five or so hours since the trial. I knew for a fact that Narcissa would be let off with no punishment. She didn't have a mark, and that was the all the difference in the world, even after my little speech. Plus, she'd saved the Chosen One's life, which was just a bonus. I couldn't very well say the same about Malfoy and his father however. Lucius was far less likely to get out of any time in prison.

I swallowed loudly and without giving myself a chance to back out of this again, turned the door knob and pushed the thick door open just enough for me to slip through. I was immediately struck by the sudden drop in temperature and I froze in my steps, my eyes shooting all around the tiny room as I regretted leaving my cloak with Harry. Directly in front of me, separated by floor-to-ceiling bars, were the Malfoys. There was a tray with a few pieces of bread and a cup of bland-looking soup, and there were three cots, each with a tattered blanket covering each of them. I was unnerved with how _dirty_ everything looked, as if none of it had been washed in ages. There were two Dementors floating just feet above my head and I could feel any joy I had left being sucked directly out of my soul.

_Happy thoughts, Hermione_, I chanted to myself, closing my eyes tight and swishing my wand in the familiar pattern. I opened my eyes just in time to see the silvery otter swish out of my wand and fly immediately towards the direction of the Dementors. They shrunk back, collecting in the high ceiling, my otter fluttering.

"Thank you," Narcissa murmured and I stumbled forward, my hands wrapping around a bar each so I was right in front of her.

"Are you alright?" I asked quietly and she sighed.

"What have you been hearing?" She asked instead of answering my question and I pursed my lips.

"A lot." I admitted. "Most of it is reasonable, some of it is good, and, well, some of It isn't."

"Only to be expected," She breathed and I nodded briefly, digging around the pocket on the side of my skirt and withdrawing four vials the length and thickness of my little finger. Three of them were swimming with a swimming silvery liquid and the fourth was a dark violet.

"Each of you drink these," I told her, giving her the three silver ones. "It's a Patronus-in-a-bottle, and should last for twenty four hours—until you get out of the holding cell. After that, depending on the verdict, I don't know what else I can do to help. Give this to your son. It's a dreamless-sleep potion."

"You've done more than enough for us," Narcissa told me, closing her hands around my own after slipping the vials into her shoe. "We're all very thankful."

"Drink those soon," I told her, "Visiting hours are long over. I'll be over tomorrow morning as soon as I can."

"Thank you," Narcissa murmured, moving her hands from mine and bringing them up to my cheeks, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Thank you so much."

I smiled weakly. Nothing was set yet—she didn't need to thank me.

"Tomorrow," I said finally, backing away and nodding to the two male Malfoys who were seated on their cots, pretending that they weren't trying to listen in on our conversation. The elder Malfoy nodded back, and Malfoy met my eyes, his gaze burning.

And then I was gone, and nearly at the end of the corridor when I felt the strain of my Patronus leave, telling me that it'd faded away. I hoped they took those potions soon.

When I stepped into Harry's office, he looked up and smiled a bit at me. He was worried about the Malfoys, no doubt, but it wasn't like me. He wasn't the one who'd invested everything in them.

"How did it go?" He asked.

"As good as it could have." I muttered. "I'll be back tomorrow. Can I just Floo directly into your office?"

"Of course." He said warmly and I grabbed my cloak on one of the comfy-looking chairs and began making my way over to the fireplace, smiling at the pictures he'd put on the mantle. There was one of me and him and Ron, one of him and Ginny, one of the Weasleys, one Luna, Ginny and I, and one of the Gryffindor boys. Harry may have saved the world, but he's such a softie.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione," He said softly, coming over and hugging me tightly. I clutched to him, knowing that if I started crying now, I'd never stopped. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and I idly wondered when he'd gotten taller than me.

"Bright and early," I confirmed, pulling my cloak on so I wouldn't lose it in the network and taking a small handful of Floo powder, throwing it into the fire an stepping in afterwards.

"Minerva McGonagall's office, Hogwarts," I enunciated clearly, and then I was whisked away, Harry's concerned face the last thing in my view before I was whirling around in the network.

I stumbled out of McGonagall's grate and steadied myself before I fell to the ground, giving her a half-hearted smile and beginning to make my way to the door of the office.

"Your speech was beautiful," She told me quietly and I blushed, ducking my head and mumbling a thank you. "I know the Malfoys appreciated it."

I nodded without looking at her and exited the office, making my way through the school over to the Gryffindor tower. When I got to the start of the familiar corridor, Blaise, Theo, and Adrian were waiting outside of it, staring at the Fat Lady and mumbling to each other. I slowed, not entirely sure if I wanted to talk to them. It was late, and I was tired. A lot had happened and I felt worn thin.

All the same, Malfoy was their friend and I knew they were worried out of their wits. I would be, if I was in the situation. Actually, I _was_, and I didn't even like Malfoy.

Huh.

I stopped in front of them and they slowly looked up at me, not moving from their seats on the ground.

"It's late, guys," I muttered quietly, extending both of my hands and helping Adrian and Theo up before helping Blaise. "We could have talked in the morning."

Actually, that was probably a lie. I planned on being at the ministry early tomorrow morning.

"How did it go?" Blaise asked just as softly, studying me through tired eyes. I recognized the expression in them. I'd seen it in myself when I glanced at my reflection in the mirror in the loos before finding Harry's office to come home. He looked exhausted and a little defeated.

"Reasonable," I told them. "The jury has twenty four hours to decide their opinions. Court is being called back to order tomorrow."

Blaise studied me and I blinked, looking away from the three of them.

"Your sleeves are rolled up," Adrian pointed out and I glanced at my bare forearms.

"Yeah, I guess they are," I said, my voice carefully neutral.

"You never put your sleeves up." Theo said and I backed away, tugging my sleeves back down and crossing my arms firmly.

"And I probably won't ever again," I told them flatly. "Now shoo. Go back to your dorm."

There was a long, baited silence as I waited, but finally, one by one, they left, their footsteps softly smacking against the marble. The noise completely died away and I whirled around, turning to the Fat Lady and knocking gently on her portrait, murmuring the password and she sleepily let me in.

When I got to my dorm and abandoned my clothes for some thick pajama bottoms and a snug tee-shirt, I almost had a heart attack when I got in my bed and there were Ginny and Luna, sitting up and staring absently at three identical books at their feet.

"What are you _doing_ here?" I hissed at them, pulling the hangings around the bed and standing in the small spot that was between the bed and the curtains.

"We were waiting for you," Ginny said bluntly and I rolled my eyes.

"Obviously. Why?"

"Professor Harrison assigned us this weird book to read." Ginny said when she realized Luna wasn't going to talk. "I opened mine, just to look through the pages quickly, and when I did, it made this weird noise."

"It made a noise," I repeated flatly and Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

"Like it was an empty room with an open window—it sounded like wind was blowing through it."

"Right. Well, Ginny's gone mad," I deduced, turning to Luna who smiled at that.

"We've got until Holidays to finish it," Luna informed me and I nodded, taking my copy and flipping to the back cover and reading the words on it.

"_Taste of Life is an intriguing book full of realistic life experiences that any person, male or female, between the ages of fifteen and twenty five, might experience. It kept me captivated until the very end—I genuinely felt as if I was in the story."_

"Sounds promising," Ginny muttered and I scoffed.

"It sounds like something that I don't have time for."

"The trial is over, 'Mione," Luna murmured, "Whatever the choice is—you can't do anything else. It's time to move on."

"What about them?" I whispered, settling on my bed at their feet. "What if they can't move on? What if I didn't do it good enough. Azkaban could become their lives and it would be my fault."

Ginny leaned over and pulled me up so I was squished between them, throwing her arm around my shoulders and pulling my head onto her chest.

"You did the best you could. And Hermoine's best has never not been good enough."

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><p><strong>Alright, so I know this was up a few hours ago and you all got your annoying notification email, but then I took it down almost right away because I wanted to fix the ending. Obviously this ending isn't very good, but I can assure you it's much better than it was.<strong>

**Regardless of the mediocre ending, I hope you enjoyed this very boring chapter. Lol, I know, but sometimes people need a break in between jumping into shark pits and this was Hermione's. She won't be getting another break for a while, I suspect, so get ready. Things are going to get a whole lot more interesting very soon. Thanks again for reading and if you reviewed, huggles! :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Reviews Answered:  
><strong>**Gaara's Plaything: **Well this here chapter is some of what is going to happen. I should really answer these reviews differently... Glad you liked! :)  
><strong>alicemaybrandonjones: <strong>Oh my gosh, that is seriously one of the nicest reviews I've gotten in a long time! I'm so glad you like it so much and I'm even gladder that you think it's neither rushed nor annoyingly vague with the case thingy. Thank youuuuuu! :D  
><strong>FindMe215:<strong> I don't think it's entirely corrupted, my ministry. I think people are more afraid of what Death Eaters could do to the wavering peace that has settled over the wizarding world. You know? Either way, I'm so happy to hear that you liked this enough to tell me to keep writing! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

I crept out of my dorm, in a pair of comfortable black jeans and a peach-coloured cardigan over a grey tank top. I loved weekends when I didn't have to wear robes, but I carried my plain black ones over my arm so I could put them on in case I needed to blend in at the ministry.

Before I got to McGonagall's office, I made a quick detour to the kitchens and grabbed as much food as I could take without hindering the poor elves. I stuffed it into a simple paper bag and all but ran all the way to the gargoyle statues and telling them the password, slipping up the stairs before they even had enough time to move all the way over.

Harry wasn't in his office when I got there, and from the looks of it, he hadn't even gotten into work yet. I wondered what he was doing—he was a fairly early riser and to not be at work already was curious—but put it from my mind, rushing out through the door and making my way down to the holding cells, the paper bag clutched in one hand, my wand and school book in the other. I planned on being here all day—might as well have something to read.

"What are you doing?"

I nearly jumped but refrained as I spun around, working to keep a calm expression on my face. I actually didn't have anyone's permission other than Harry's, and I wasn't sure how much leverage would have if I were to get in trouble for visiting the Malfoys.

The man was short, only an inch or two higher than me, with lighter brown hair and a scruffy beard. He might have been decent looking, if there wasn't an ugly scowl painted on his face.

"I wish to speak to Narcissa Malfoy," I said importantly, drawing myself up to my full height.

"What's in that bag there?" The man demanded and I looked down, pretending to be surprised.

"It's my breakfast," I said impatiently, pulling out a bagel to emphasize my point. "May I go?"

"You don't plan on giving that food to them, do you?" He sneered and I laughed.

"I plan on tormenting them with the fact that I get good food and they don't," I told him sarcastically and he nodded once, apparently taking me seriously before continuing down the corridor in the direction I came from. I stared at his back, wondering if that actually just happened.

After a long moment of staring at a now-empty hallway, I shrugged helplessly and turned in the direction of the Malfoy's holding cell room, entering swiftly and locking the door with a flick of my wand behind me.

"Here," I said flatly, handing Malfoy the bag through the bars as I crossed the room to go speak to his mother who was sitting on the other side of the cell, staring absently into the distance.

"What's this?" Malfoy asked and I rolled my eyes at him even though he couldn't see anything but the back of my head.

"It seems to be food," I told him. What was with everyone questioning my paper bag? "Unless you prefer stale bread and soup that looks like dirty water, you're welcome."

I didn't expect a thank you from him, and I didn't get one. Either way, it was a few moments into my quiet conversation with Narcissa when I heard the rustling of the paper bag and noticed out of the corner of my eye that Malfoy and his father were looking through it, clearly hungrier than even I'd expected. Of course they wouldn't lower themselves to eat that crap the ministry gave them yesterday. Why was I not surprised?

"Are you okay, Cissa?" I murmured, clasping her cool hands in my own through the metal bars. "You look haunted."

"My son and husband might be sent off to Azkaban for the rest of their lives," She breathed, her face clean of emotion. Her eyes were frantic though, and I silently marveled at the pureblood ability to pretend as if nothing was wrong even when there wasn't a single thing right.

I didn't know what to say to that so I merely squeezed her hands tighter, looking down at them as the two of us sat in silence.

It seemed like days had passed as we sat there, but I knew it could only have been a few hours. Harry popped his head in and mumbled something about how I should get out of the holding cell before I got in trouble for being there. Narcissa shot me a sharp look—she hadn't been made aware of the fact that I wasn't technically supposed to be visiting them, and I avoided her eyes, unwilling to see the worry in them. I snatched the now-empty paper bag from Malfoy's grasp as I passed him and left the room, the door closing with a firm click of the lock behind me.

"I'm so worried." I told Harry quietly as he slung his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, leading me up to his office, his whole being radiating supportiveness. I loved him so much sometimes. He really was the best friend I could ever hope to have.

"I'll be back in a couple hours. We can go down to the court rooms together," He muttered as he let me into his office, gesturing at the lone love seat in the corner that was probably charmed to be a lot more comfortable than it looked. "You…just rest or something, alright, Hermione?" He paused almost awkwardly. Harry didn't generally tell me what to do. I was always the one mothering him and Ron. "You look awful."

"Cheers, Harry," I said flatly and he grinned my favorite crooked grin before pressing a kiss to my temple and nudging me in the direction of the couch. It was only a few seconds later that the door to his office closed and I heard the lock click. It still astounded me that Harry trusted me inside of his office full of all the confidential documents and I smiled faintly, crossing the rest of the way to the plain brown couch, sinking down onto it, pulling the tiny book for Professor Harris' class and flicking it open, staring at the first page for a long time before making the decision to read it.

The first ten pages were reasonably boring. They held no substance and were about as bland as parchment. But the moment I turned onto the eleventh page, I could feel the world slipping away from around me.

I groaned sleepily, shifting around on whatever it was I was sleeping on. It was decently comfortable—a little too squishy for my liking, but fine for the restless sleep that I was all too familiar with. I groaned again and breathed in deeply, trying to keep myself asleep even though I knew it was futile. Once I was awake, there wasn't any possibility of falling back down under.

I froze mid-inhale. That did not smell familiar at all.

Okay, I thought rationally, there were a few places I could be. Just because I didn't recognize the scent didn't exactly mean anything bad…

I slowly finished my inhale and mentally prepared myself to open my eyes. I was hoping to catch sight of Harry's office, which was the last place I remembered being.

I found myself face to face with a light blue-cased pillow. I'd never seen it before in my life.

Oh, Godric, I thought, trying desperately not to start panicking. Maybe Harry had transfigured something into a pillow. Nevermind the fact that he was rubbish at transfiguration, there had to be a reason why I was currently looking at a blue pillow that I'd never seen before in my life.

Slowly, painfully slowly, I turned so I could look around the room I was in. There wasn't much about it that I recognized, save for the few picture frames I could see from the corner of my eye. When I went to look at them, I saw various familiar faces in settings I didn't remember being in at all.

Oh, Godric, I thought, my panic level rising despite my best attempts at keeping it low. Oh, Godric, where was I?

Moving as quietly as possible, still entirely too unsure about my location, I slipped out of the bed, sticking my feet in a pair of fuzzy white slippers that were at my left. They looked incredibly worn and that fact didn't do much to ease my worry.

I whirled around to search under my pillow for my wand and finally found it, grabbing it swiftly and clutching it tightly as I slowly made my way out of the bedroom.

I found myself in a beige hallway that was lined on either side of the walls with unfamiliar pictures, some of which I was in. I wrinkled my nose at the drab paint and the basic vinyl tiles as I made my wan down to the nearest door. I'd never willingly paint anything beige. It was such a boring, 'this house is only temporary' colour.

Whatever, I thought, trying to focus, the colour scheme is hardly the greatest worry you should have.

I turned swiftly to the first door that I came to and studied it. It looked like a basic door and I was once again struck with how bland everything seemed. Physically shaking myself once in efforts to get my thoughts back on track, I put my hand on the door knob. I could hear a voice calling my name, but it didn't sound as if it were in the building I was in but more as if I were hearing it through a very large amount of water.

I twisted the doorknob, ignoring the voice, and opened the door slowly, peering in.

The walls were beige once more, but they were covered in pictures and drawings of all sorts. It looked a bit like a little girl's room, and when I looked to my right I found I'd been correct in that assumption.

I heard that irritating sound of my name and gritted my teeth silently, resuming my observing.

The little girl sitting on her bed looked no more than seven. Her hair was either a very dark blonde or a very light brown—sort of how my hair had been when I was that age—but pin straight. She was pale, and studying the wooden block in front of her with astounding intensity.

Finally, she noticed my presence. I opened my mouth to say something—_anything_—but she beat me to it, the word that spilled from her mouth shocking me into silence.

"Mum!" The girl crowed happily and I blinked.

"_Hermione!"_ I could hear from inside my head once more, and the voice was infinitely clearer than before. But now I wasn't even ignoring it on purpose.

I opened my mouth once more to try and explain to this little girl that there was no way I could be her mum. Not only did I not have a child, but I was seventeen years old! I wanted to demand where I was and what she was doing calling me mum but suddenly everything around me started to blur.

"_HERMIONE!"_ I heard and then I was blinking up into the worried face of Harry, any sign of the girl and her bedroom gone from my sight.

"Harry?" I asked blankly, trying hard to process anything. I glanced at the page of the book I was on and noticed that there wasn't anything even remotely relating to what I'd just saw written on the parchment. So I'd fallen asleep?

Had I dreamt all of that? Even the little girl with the startlingly pretty features/

I didn't have much time to wonder about any of this however. Harry gripped my face in his warm hands to focus me.

"They've moved up the sentencing, Hermione," He said solemnly. "I only just found out. It's happening now."

And then I was running, all thoughts of that brown-haired little girl being shoved to the back of my mind as I raced through the Ministry, Harry hot on my heels. It didn't even matter any longer what people thought.

The Malfoys were being sentenced and I wasn't there.

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><p><strong>Hey guys! I just wanted to pop in down here and say THANK YOU to the incredible feedback I've been getting for this. I've got an astonishing number of reads and favorites and alerts and all that stuff and it's honestly blowing my mind because I'm so surprised that you all seem to enjoy this thing so much! So thanks again for that, it really does mean so much to me, each and every one of those reviews, favorites, alerts, and reads. And reviews. Tally-ho!<strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**Review Answered:  
>Gaara's Plaything: <strong>I actually did have to leave it hanging. It gives me a rush-I know now what all the other authors talk about with the joys of cliffies. XD I hope this chapter satisfies you for now! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

I skidded to a stop at the entrance to the grand corridor where the doors to the atrium were. It was littered with guards and I wasn't half stupid enough to think they'd let me through. Harry nearly slammed into me from behind but I heard him catch himself, his palms pressing into my back in efforts to stop.

"I know another way." He muttered into my ear, grasping a hand and tugging it along, pulling me around the corner and walking with the sort of gait that told me I should keep to the shadow like he was. I did, trailing behind him silently. It was too dark to see and holding hands would make it difficult to walk so close to the wall, so I left a hand clutching his shirt right in the middle of his back as he led me blindly along.

It seemed like ages but I knew it couldn't have been too long. Harry wasn't stupid. Spending ages finding a room would be completely useless—the trial would have ended by then. We stopped, me running into his back with a small _oof!_ and him reaching behind to press a comforting hand against my arm. I heard the murmuring of his voice, too faint for me to tell what was said, and then a creak that was cut off in the middle as Harry remembered to silence it.

We slipped through the doorway into a dark room. The door closed behind us and I breathed in a sigh of relief, trying hard not to cough. The air was thick with dust and the room was very musty with disuse but I could hear the familiar voice of the woman from the Wizengamot reading off the list of accused charges for each one of the Malfoys. As if people had forgotten.

"What is this place?" I breathed to Harry and I saw his face in the very dim light that seemed to be coming from behind me as he smirked a bit.

"They used to have reporters sit here long ago," He murmured back, his voice a breath in the dusty air. "But people complained—said that it was like being a prisoner themselves. The room hasn't been used in centuries."

My interest level was rising and I was immediately curious about everything that the room could relate to, but then I heard the pause from the woman in the Wizengamot that signaled the refresher was now complete.

I slowly turned, making my way over as silently as I could to the tiny vent that was indeed behind me. Pressing my face to it, I could see the backs of peoples' shoes, and further on, the Malfoys in that horrible cage.

The pause seemed infinite and I felt Harry take my hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"It'll be fine," he breathed in my ear, and his warm presence lingered right behind me, comforting me for just a moment.

I pressed my face even harder against the cool metal vent, listening as the woman's voice rattled off a summary of yesterday's events. Everyone that I could see from my spot looked rapt, most of them still indecisive about what was going to happen. I wanted to catch Narcissa's eye—any one of them would do, to be fair—but she wasn't looking in my direction. It was probably for the best. If she made any inclination that she saw me, Harry and I would be in a lot of trouble.

"It has been a difficult night for a majority of us," The woman continued and I scoffed, Harry's hand pressing into my mouth to muffle the noise. "This case is quite unlike any we've seen in decades." There was a general murmur of agreement, but most of the people stayed quiet.

"After a very long consideration of each and every detail, we as the Wizengamot court have come to what we feel is the best solution for each of you."

I watched Narcissa grip both her husband's hand and her son's hand and I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. I didn't want them to fall though. I wouldn't let them.

Harry pressed himself closer to my back and I squeezed his hand harder, drawing in a deep, slightly shaky breath.

I truthfully believed with every inch of my heart and soul and _being_ that all three of them deserved to be cleared of all charges. But it was just a repeat of Harry and I from third year. What would the word of two teenage wizards mean to a court full of people?

Nothing. The words Harry and I spoke, even though we'd helped save the wizarding world, they didn't mean very much. We were still teenagers. We haven't even graduated school yet. And that was why the Malfoys weren't going to get off scot free.

My vision blurred and I sucked in another ragged breath, trying not to alert Harry that I was crying. I knew he knew though. Harry knew everything.

I wondered how they were going to do it. Best to worst? By age? That would be the same thing, no?

I hoped they did it worst to best. I truthfully didn't know how I'd handle it if it just kept getting worse. But if it got better, I could trick myself into thinking it was alright.

"Lucius Malfoy," a man's voice sounded now and I closed my eyes to keep them from looking. To keep myself from seeing the terror wash over this man's face. I didn't want to remember him like this. I wanted to remember him the proud, haughty, cold man that stood before me so long ago in Diagon Alley. That was what a Malfoy was supposed to be. It was a way of life. These broken shells of them that were in that cage, they scared me.

If the fearless, unforgiving Malfoys could be reduced to this, what would happen to me if I was ever in this situation?

"You have been sentenced to five years in Azkaban before you will be released and on parole for the next ten. Should you decided to commit any sort of illicit activity whilst on parole, you will be sent back to Azkaban, no trial required."

And then suddenly, I couldn't _not_ look. Forget me wanting to remember him properly, I needed to see this man one last time. I wondered if he hated me for being unable to save him. I wondered when I'd become so emotionally invested in this case.

Maybe I'd always been emotionally invested. Maybe that was why I'd been completely unable to go against them in court. I'd spent my whole life fighting against prejudice and to turn around and be prejudiced against someone who was prejudiced against you was completely mental. Completely ignored the point of the whole bloody war.

"Narcissa Malfoy. It was a difficult choice, but ultimately, the fact that you never were branded as a Death Eater pulled through. You will be released to live your life as you please, but bear in mind, the ministry will still keep a close watch on you should you decide to act against the law."

I breathed in a sigh of relief at that one. Narcissa wasn't strong enough to survive any measure of time at Azkaban. She wouldn't have made it out alive.

I froze though, knowing what was next. There was no doubt in my mind that Draco Malfoy's situation was incredibly unique. He was the only Slytherin still in school to be branded with the Dark Mark. He was just a student—not even of age when it happened—and I seriously doubted there was a protocol for things like this.

Harry wrapped an arm around me, his hand gripping my left shoulder and his chin resting on my right. It felt like he was the only thing holding me together right now; my stress levels were that high. There was so much riding on this. All prat tendencies aside, Draco Malfoy was innocent. I doubted he'd even ever managed to kill anyone throughout his short time as a Death Eater.

Plus, it would be shit for my future if I'd defended a family who all got sent to Azkaban anyway. I didn't normally care what people thought, but people talked and there was little chance of anything _good_ that would be said about me if I was defending a family of charged Death Eaters after spending half my life apparently fighting against them. It would look as if I was just a traitor. I wasn't naïve. It was one of the reasons I'd worked so hard to keep my name hidden—the bias would be unbelievable. If they were found innocent with my name, it would look like they were freed just because of who I was. But if they were found guilty, it would look like I was on Voldemort's side.

I really couldn't win here.

"It'll be fine," Harry breathed, and I nodded jerkily, gripping his left hand tighter. I didn't really know what I would do without him. Ginny and Luna were amazing, but Harry was, without a doubt, my best friend in the whole world.

"Draco Malfoy," The man's voice continued finally and I held my breath. "Your situation was…unlike any we've ever encountered as a Wizengamot court. Forced into taking the Mark before you were even of age." He paused, seeming to realize that he was way beyond the realms of appropriate. These people weren't supposed to show bias towards this until the decision was given. "Excuse me," he said, "Strike that last line." It was quiet enough that I could hear the last few words being crossed out by the court scribe, the quill scratchy against the parchment.

"We have come to, what we feel, is the most suitable punishment." He began again and I rolled my eyes, impatience easily hiding my fear. "You are to go six months without your wand and have one year of probation."

I stared. Harry's sharp intake of air behind me assured me that I wasn't the only one horrified. Even the few Wizengamot members I could see looked a bit uneasy.

Taking away a wizard's wand was like stripping him of his soul. A wand is a part of a wizard. But asking him to continue pretending as if everything was fine and dandy was nothing short of cruel public humiliation. My gaze was burning on Malfoy's face, but I was unable to look away. He looked incredibly composed for someone who was just told they were to live the next six months as a Muggle. Nothing wrong with Muggle's obviously, but even _I_, a _Muggle-born_ would have problems with that.

But he looked so composed. Like he didn't care. Suddenly, as if he'd felt my gaze on him, he found my eyes in the crowd and locked his own with mine and my breath caught. I wanted to look away, realizing that he wasn't as okay with it as his expression might suggest. His eyes were burning with shame and humiliation already and I knew my own were wide with apprehension.

"A unique punishment for a unique situation." I could hear Umbridge's voice clearly over the hesitant mumbles of the quote, but Malfoy and I didn't break gazes until he and his parents were led away by a group of Aurors.

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><p><strong>Well here's lucky number 13's chapter. I really do hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, you could tell me in a review because they honestly don't take very long to do and they would make me happy as a clam. :)<strong>


	14. Chapter 14

**Reviews Answered:**

**pillowwolfpup:**Not much I can say to answer this one other than, here's the next chapter...there's not much of a reaction yet, but I suspect it's coming soon.

**Gaara's Plaything: **I actually have no idea where his sentence came from. It was going to be something else entirely but then this idea just sort of came to me. I hope it's decent though! Here's more. ;)

**Kermit 304: **I think that is a reasonable suspicion. We can just blame her for everything, yeah? Yes, my ministry is corrupted, it's terrible. It'll hopefully get better. Eventually.

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><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

"Auror Potter, I am escorting Mrs Malfoy to her home in Wiltshire shortly," an unfamiliar face told Harry an hour later. He didn't seem to notice me on the couch in Harry's office, which was good, and Harry nodded absently a couple times.

"Lucius Malfoy is to depart to Azkaban in one hour," The other Auror continued, and I decided he was friendly enough. He didn't seem like a prat, at any rate, which was always nice. "His wife and son are saying their goodbyes."

There was a long silence in which the Auror looked vacantly around Harry's office, the expression on his face similar to one that would be on a small child's face: marveled and easily distracted. Indeed, his eyes immediately fell to the bedazzled picture frame on Harry's desk that Ginny had given him as a gift. There was a picture of he and Ron with their arms around each other's shoulders in it and had been the source of many laughs in the Auror department when they'd first started.

"Right," Harry prompted and the Auror blinked, seeming to realize that he hadn't said anything that Harry would actually need to know.

"We feel you can handle bringing the young Malfoy back to Hogwarts. If you want backup, just ask one of the senior Aurors."

"I won't need backup," Harry said flatly, "It's Malfoy. _Wandless_ Malfoy. I'm fine."

The older Auror nodded blankly, shuffling out of the room and muttering to himself.

"Crowley is a great Auror," Harry told me by explanation as he moved to the couch to read some packet next to me instead of at his desk, "But the man is very, well, you saw him."

"Scatterbrained ?" I offered and he grinned briefly at me, nodding in approval at my adjective. "Yeah, I got that."

Twenty minutes later, there was frantic knocking on Harry's office door and I sat up, not knowing exactly what I'd do, but not willing to just lounge around as some psychopathic ministry worker stormed about. A flick of Harry's wand and the office door was thrown open, the knocker stomping inside in a flurry of robes and familiar, shockingly red hair.

"Ron!" I gasped, hopping up and moving to throw my arms around him, but he shifted backwards, looking at me accusingly.

"You defended the Malfoys?" He asked and I blinked, having forgotten he wasn't aware that I'd spent so long doing just that.

"Of course," I replied haltingly, and he swelled up a bit, his face stony. "Now, Ronald, let me—"

"Explain?" Ron interrupted and I almost nodded before realizing he wasn't quite done. "Is there really anything to say? They're Death Eaters, Hermione, the whole lot of them, and you stood up there and told everyone that you believed them innocent."

"I do believe them innocent," I cut across before he could start another point and I saw Harry edging toward the door from the corner of my eye. I was about to call him out on it—tell him that he better not dare leave me to deal with an angry Ronald on my own, but he merely shut his office door with a firm hand, and I wondered how loud Ron and I were actually being if he was concerned about people hearing.

"They stood there and watched Bellatrix torture you!" Ron exclaimed, clearly not understanding what I was saying. "They've got Dark Marks!"

I drew back, but glared at him sharply all the same. "Shut up, Ronald Weasley," I told him flatly, and he looked bewildered. I didn't tell him that often. "You are being completely absurd. Cool off and owl me. Harry and I are bringing Malfoy back to Hogwarts."

I pushed past him and grabbed my book on the way out, dragging Harry by the sleeve of his cloak. Malfoy was at the end of the corridor, his hands bound behind his back, a decidedly blank expression on his face. An Auror was hovering behind, and another was farther off, pretending that he wasn't watching.

"You got it from here, Auror Potter?" The larger man asked and Harry nodded, watching impassively as the Auror strode away, the second one flitting off after he assumed we weren't looking. Harry swished his wand and Malfoy's arms were released and he rubbed his wrists, chaffed red from apparent strain.

"We're going back to Hogwarts," I told him unnecessarily and for his part, he didn't say anything condescending back but just gazed at me before his eyes flitted down to my wand that I was holding loosely in my fingers. I pulled it back behind me, effectively concealing it though he'd already seen it, and he looked away.

"You're lucky wandlessness is all the Wizengamot condemned you to," Ron snapped to him after catching the look and I shot my ex an irritated scowl.

"Piss off, Weasley," Malfoy said, his voice almost pleasant.

Ron spit in his face.

I could feel my mouth dropping open in surprise and Malfoy blinked, rage flaming in his eyes, his jaw clenched tightly. My hand swung before I realized, and then Ron was clutching his cheek, a red handprint already forming.

"I could write you up for that, Hermione!" Ron hissed at me and I scoffed.

"Besides the fact that you would never do that to me, there are no witnesses to back you up." I replied vaguely.

"Harry's right there," Ron told me, as if I had forgotten.

I pulled my lips in a cold, slightly condescending look, though my voice was sweet. "I don't think Harry saw that, do you?"

Ron looked to Harry for support but Harry frowned at him. "I think it's time you went back to your office, Ron, mate." He said instead and Ron balked. Harry's voice was friendly, even a bit concerned at Ron's temper, but there was no missing the underlying threat. Ron was acting out of place, and Harry was his superior. It wasn't difficult to realize what might happen.

A long breath escaped Ron's lips and he whirled on his heal, storming back down the corridor. I sighed, wondering how long it'd be before he forgave me for this one and we could start being friends again. Ron was a brilliant friend, but he'd never really learned to control his temper.

Harry looked away as I swooped my wand and scorgified the mess from Malfoy's face before replacing the stick behind my back once more. Malfoy didn't thank me, and I didn't expect him to. His eyes were still stinging with fury and I wondered if he would take it out on me back at Hogwarts and away from Auror-mode Harry.

Surprisingly enough, I wasn't daunted by that prospect. Arguing with Ron had made me feel more like my old self, the one with the fight in her still, and I wondered if I would be able to hold my own against Malfoy like I used to. We would have to see, I guess.

Harry finally turned back to us, deciding that Malfoy and I weren't going to share words after all. My friend's nose wrinkled for just a moment before he led the two of us into his office towards the Floo.

"Let's just avoid the reporters, yeah?" Harry asked, almost speaking to himself. I made a hum of agreement and Malfoy stayed silent, accepting a handful of Floo powder and stepping into the grate first. A sharp call of Hogwarts and he was gone in a whoosh of green flames.

"Good luck," Harry murmured to me and I smiled faintly at him, pulling him close and hugging him for a bit longer than needed, trying to absorb a bit of his strength.

By the time I was back in McGonagall's office, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. It didn't bother me either—just because I wanted to try my hand at a battle of the wits didn't mean I wasn't tired. It's been ages since I slept properly and I honestly just wanted a nap before dinner.

"Miss Granger," I heard McGonagall's voice just as I almost made it to the door. I sucked in a deep breath and cleared my face of any emotion that might be littered across it before turning to face her.

"Yes?" I inquired politely, seeing Snape's eyebrows rise from behind her at my tone. I scowled at him and he scowled right back. It was almost comforting—some things wouldn't ever change, thank goodness.

"Mr Malfoy did not seem willing to share the results of the trail," She began cautiously, "And I did not feel it wise to push him, lest they were less than satisfactory."

"Better than expected, worse than I'd hoped." I told her promptly, inching back ever so much when she turned to regard Dumbledore in his portrait. If I could just sneak out of here. . .

She turned back to me and I froze.

"Come," she said, either ignoring my weariness or not noticing it at all. "Sit and tell us all."

And there it was—a direct command. I could feel the familiar need to make them all happy, that teacher's pet syndrome I'd managed to control a bit more than prior to the war. It was warring with my desire to just escape and forget the trial for a couple of hours before the school received notice or Malfoy or any of our mutual friends or my own brought it up.

But then I thought back to that expression in his eyes, both when he'd been sentenced and when Ron had spat in his face and I decided promptly that I could do him the small favor of informing the staff of the situation. He was likely hiding out, avoiding people for as long as he could manage. He deserved the little peace I could get him, I supposed, even if he was a git.

No one really deserved to have their wand taken away. Magic was such a huge part of us all and to just have it suddenly stripped from you, even if only for half a year, I didn't know how he hadn't exploded yet.

"Mr Malfoy is going to Azkaban," I began softly, sitting stiffly in the chair in front of McGonagall's desk, my knuckles white with the force I was clutching the arms of the chair. I heard her intake of breath and nodded. "Five years, which is infinitely better than the average Death Eater sentence, but any amount of time in that place is cruel and unusual. Parole for ten after his release."

"And Narcissa?" She asked quietly and I pulled the corners of my lips up in a half-hearted smile.

"She will be monitored for a while, but no sentence. She doesn't have a brand, and that makes all the difference in this world." The bitterness in my voice was clear, but no one commented on it.

McGonagall seemed unable to ask about Malfoy and I wasn't sure if I could bring myself to tell her. I'd been hoping for him to be cleared as well—he hadn't really done much. Even I'd done worse. So much worse.

"And Draco?" Snape's voice finally sounded after a long silence and I sighed.

"Six months without his wand." I said at last and McGonagall wasn't the only one to gasp this time. Many portraits were calling questions down to me and I felt a bit overwhelmed. Maybe this was what Ginny was talking about—that the lack of sleep and surplus of stress would finally catch up—it certainly felt like it.

A sharp whistle rang through the room and instantly had my headache throbbing, even though it was immediately quiet afterwards. "I think Miss Granger is tired," Dumbledore's kind voice said softly, though I was sure everyone heard him fine. "I'm sure any more information will be in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. We will get it then and let our young student rest up."

I smiled gratefully at him, but I could see the concern in his expression and realized that it probably wasn't very good of a smile. It wasn't particularly late, but I hoped I'd be able to fall asleep anyway.

Another beat of silence passed and I rose from the chair, striding out of office as powerfully as I could, unwilling to show anymore weakness than I already had. I'd helped Harry bloody Potter defeat Voldemort. Now was not a time to crack.

I heard murmurs behind my back before the door slammed shut with a sort of finalized noise that left me in instant silence. I let out another deep breath, resting my head on the door for a moment and scrunching my eyes shut, giving myself just a minute to compose myself before I went off to hide.

Godric, these days I was such a shitty Gryffindor.

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><p><strong>Well here's the next beautiful *scoffs* chapter of Playing House. I realize that as of now, the title has no relevance to the story itself, but we're getting to that, yeah? It'll take a bit. I'm developing the characters. Or whatever. Something. Yay.<br>Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, and it would mean a lot if you reviewed *hopeful*. :)  
>Ta-ta for now, my sweetums-es.<br>EDIT: Just fixing a few mistakes that bothered me. I might go back and do the other chapters, but probably not. It's not too bad, is it?**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

It had taken Ginny about three hours to find me, holed up in a broom closet behind a tapestry pretending to be a wall. I was just sitting there, my eyes closed and my head resting back against the wall. Reveling in the silence as my headache died down a bit.

She opened the door cautiously and slipped inside, careful about letting any light hit my face. I appreciated it.

"Where's Luna?" I asked and she laughed quietly.

"Not exactly the welcome I was expecting," She joked and I poked my tongue out at her in the dark, unsure if she'd seen it at all.

"You know what I mean," I replied after a moment and I wondered if she nodded. I could feel her sitting next to me, not touching. Cautious.

"She's helping Blaise look for Malfoy. She's carrying around a cup of tea, mumbling about how it will make him feel better."

I scoffed and Ginny giggled with me.

"To be completely honest," She continued in a stage whisper, "I think she spiked it with Sleeping Draught to keep him out of peoples' sights for the rest of the evening."

"I trust you know then?" I asked and she made a noise of confirmation.

"Harry wrote me." She said and I nodded, disregarding the fact that she wouldn't see that.

"I feel like I failed," I muttered and she finally broke the non-touching rule and threw her arms around me, pulling me close. Holding me together in case I wanted to come apart.

"You did so much better than anyone could have imagined," She told me, petting my hair in a comforting way. "You're just nineteen years old and you saved a family from a life sentence in Azkaban, Hermione."

"Whatever," I replied blithely. "Ron was being even more of an arsehole than usual."

"Harry told me you hit him. I'm surprised it was only once."

"I wanted to keep at it, but I wasn't only frustrated at him—he was just the straw that broke the camel's back."

". . .what?" Ginny asked, sounding as if she thought I'd gone mad and I laughed.

"Muggle expression," I explained and I heard her 'oh!' noise. "It felt familiar, to get all riled up again. Like I used to be before the whole thing happened. Back before Voldemort came back—maybe even after that, you know?"

"Before everything fell apart," Ginny confirmed and I nodded, clutching at her tightly and not missing the fact that she was now clutching at me just as hard.

"It's like. . .I get these sparks of how I used to be, you know?" I asked quietly and she made a noise of agreement.

"And then they go away. I think you're a little burned out, 'Mione," She replied, "To be completely honest. And you've got more right to be than most, but I know you don't like it."

"I'm trying," I told her, "I really am. And I know it's been so hard for you to, but you're doing so much better than I am."

"Differently," She corrected. "I'm healing differently. I've got Harry now, and that's a good thing. Godric, I love him so much, you know? It helps a lot, after Fred. . ._you know_. . .and everything else. But you're doing so much better than anyone would have expected, Hermione, and all of us are going to do our best to try and get you perfect again. Back to our old Hermione." her voice broke off, and she seemed to be debating with herself on whether or not to continue. "Because this new one, it's like a subdued, diluted version of you. And I miss the Hermione Granger that I knew when I was younger and pining after Harry."

"I just miss them so much," I began and she held me tighter, and I pressed my open mouth on her clothed shoulder, breathing in and out deeply.

"I know, hun," She murmured as she slowly rocked me a bit, holding my face tight and not letting me finish. She knew and she knew how much it would hurt to say it out loud again. "I know."

Luna, Blaise, Ginny, and I were sat at the Ravenclaw table in the kitchens, our late dinners in front of us.

"Theo and Adrian are looking after Draco," Luna said distantly as she sipped at her tea. "I may have put too much potion in his drink."

Blaise snorted, trying not to laugh, Ginny subsided to her giggles, and I could feel my lips twitching.

"He fell over after a sip." Blaise told Luna and she blinked at him, her eyes wide.

"Well, regardless," Luna said, "My original intention was still met. He should be out until breakfast tomorrow. Maybe lunch."

"Luna!" I admonished, "he's not supposed to miss his classes."

"Exceptions, Hermione," Ginny cajoled me and I scoffed at her.

"Our blonde friend drugging his blonde friend with too much Sleeping Draught is very unlikely to be an exception, Ginerva," I retorted, and she poked her tongue out at me.

My fingers continued to rip my bun to tiny pieces as Ginny told Blaise a slightly edited version of what I'd told her in the broom cupboard. At Luna's sharp gaze, I stuffed a piece into my mouth.

It wasn't exactly like I had an eating disorder. It was more like after camping out with Harry and Ron and living off of meager portions of food, I wasn't hungry as often anymore. I'd gotten used to eating less, and it worried Ginny and Luna, but I was trying. Little by little, I told them, and I'd be fine. Harry, Ron and I, we'd all be back to normal eventually. We went through a lot, and a lot of secrets were overturned, but I knew we'd be okay.

Without breaking from his conversation with my two best girl friends, Blaise slung an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close as I continued to eat the small pieces of the bun. I rested my head on his shoulder and pulled my lips around, musing silently about the dream that I'd had with that little girl as my friends chattered on about less serious topics. I looked up at Blaise's smiling face and noticed that there was an almost imperceptible crease in between his eyebrows and I knew he was worried. He wanted to go find Malfoy and make sure the bloke was alright—or, as alright as he _could _be, given the circumstances—and I shrugged his arm off from around my shoulders, moving from his and sitting up straight again.

"Go find Malfoy. He won't be much interesting unconscious, but you can set your mind at ease," I muttered and a half-grin laced with surprise that I'd been able to read him so easily flicked across his face as he nodded and stood up.

"How's Harry?" Luna asked me and I turned back to her, smiling faintly.

"Trying," I said honestly. "The ministry is not in the best of places right now, but he's trying."

And she nodded, the mist resettling over her eyes in that familiar way that told Ginny and I that she was back into her little safety world of make-believe. Ginny pulled Luna close and the two of us talked in low voices in the kitchens for ages afterwards with Luna making her occasional vague comment, sharing a sundae among all three of us.

The next morning, the Great Hall was bustling with life. People were talking loudly and Daily Prophets were being passed around in much the same manner as they had been back in our fourth year and Harry was in it for being Champion at fourteen. I could feel dread in the pit of my stomach, but I swallowed tightly and pulled back my shoulders, walking purposefully towards Ginny and Neville who were mock-fighting over the last bit of pumpkin juice in the jug, the Prophet forgotten, at least for them, to the side.

"You look different," Were the first words out of Ginny's mouth when she noticed me as I sat down across from the two of them. Her hands finally released the jug and Neville made a triumphant noise and he poured the juice into his goblet, taking a hefty gulp and pulling his lips up at the corners with pleasure.

"I do?" I questioned, pulling the bowl of cantaloupe close and piling a good amount on my plate. I bit into one and closed my eyes for just a moment, letting the gentle sweetness of the fruit override my senses. Cantaloupe was best in the morning, in my opinion, because it wasn't overly sweet and so wouldn't shock you awake, but it was so coolly refreshing and wonderful.

"Yes," Ginny confirmed, studying me with a fork of egg flicking back and forth as she moved it around while she spoke. "Did you sleep last night?"

"Some," I replied, unwilling to tell her that I'd had to take a leaf out of Malfoy's unwitting book and taken a—smaller than his—dose of Sleeping Draught after one thirty rolled around and sleep hadn't claimed me for its own yet.

She probably knew, anyway, but it wasn't like I was going to go and confirm her suspicions unless she asked directly. In some people, there was a distinctive look about them after they've taken the potion. I'd never seen it in myself, but Ginny said it was plain as day.

She frowned at me and I wrinkled my nose, putting another piece of fruit in my mouth and chewing pointedly so she knew to change the subject. She did, with yet another frown, and turned to her all-time favorite thing to talk about.

"So I saw on the notice board that Slytherin teams booked the pitch all this coming week for practice," Ginny started and I kept my expression carefully blank. "They need a new chaser and a new beater, which means tryouts are probably Monday after classes, and the following four days are the beginning of the breaking-in."

More staring from me and her gaze sharpened.

"What do you plan on wearing whilst spying?" She finally asked and I groaned before scoffing.

"I'm not going to wear anything special. I do study in the stands sometimes. I'll just read up there."

"How are you planning on seeing what Hermione sees, Gin?" Neville asked and I raised my eyebrows at that. "She's not known for paying attention to the game."

"Pensive," Ginny replied flatly, leaning in and lowering her voice. "You'll watch very carefully and then put the memories of each day in the pensive. I'll watch those then, and Gryffindor team will be golden."

"You're going to cheat to win?" I asked, knowing we'd already been over this, but unwilling to go down without a fight.

"Hermione," Ginny said firmly, her eyebrows raised, telling me that she did _not_ want to argue this.

I sighed dramatically and closed the book that I'd been pretending to read with a loud thump. Putting it down on the table in front of me and leaning forward a bit, I nodded once, to my friend's joy.

"Thank you!" She squealed, moving to lunge at me and hug me once again, but was caught 'round the waist by Neville who winked when I sent him a grateful look.

"I swear, Ginny, if you knock me down again, I'll retract my agreement to this—this _thing _immediately," I said, faltering when I noticed Blaise on his way to sit next to us. Ginny looked bewildered at me before winking when Blaise sat down next to her and she realized what I was doing.

"What agreement?" He asked promptly, helping himself to the food in the middle of the Gryffindor table, as if he hadn't already eaten back with the snakes.

"Threesome with Harry and I," Ginny replied promptly and I spat out the juice I'd been sipping, coughing madly.

"_Ginny_!" I yelped, gasping for air. I was sure that half of that juice was now swimming around nicely in my lungs.

She sent me an apologetic look, clearly even shameless Ginny Weasley was a little embarassed, but laughed anyway at the pure shock that was on Blaise's—and Neville's, for that matter—face. "That was the first thing I came up with."

"_Why_?" I asked rhetorically, not wanting to know the answer at all. She scoffed at me but shrugged and after a moment, I let the matter drop.

The four of us, Blaise, Neville, Gin, and I messed around for a bit before the doors to the Great Hall were thrown open and Malfoy strode in, his expression and stance screaming out haughty indifference. I was rather impressed that he was able to go from that burning ashamed look that he'd sported during the trial to this in such a short period of time, but not surprised.

Theo, Adrian, and Goyle were flanking him, and had Blaise been there too, the scene would have been eerily similar to our earlier years at Hogwarts.

All eyes were on the Slytherin boys as they walked—scratch that, _sauntered_—through the hall, clearly making their way to the end farthest from the entryway where Parkinson and both Greengrass sisters were seated, watching with vague interest.

It wasn't completely silent, the Hall, because there were murmurs and mutters flitting around as people took in the apparently unabashed Malfoy striding through as if he owned the place. A quick glance at Blaise told me everything I needed to know. Malfoy—that git—was just pretending to be all well and good.

Finally, a Sixth year stood up from the Ravenclaw table purposefully and began making his way over to Malfoy. Eyes flickered between the two boys and Blaise and I shifted almost as one, completely prepared to do damage control if need be.

"So Malfoy," the boy started and I gripped Blaise's arm to prevent him from going over there now. Nothing out of control had happened yet. "I heard that you got sentence to six months without a wand. Nothing more than a common muggle now, eh? How does it feel, to be just like those muggles you spent years hating?"

"Shut up," Malfoy replied, his voice tight but rather controlled. I noticed Luna slowly rise from her seat and pointed her out to Blaise who was struggling against my grip.

"But what's even more amazing," The Ravenclaw continued cruely, "is that your filthy Death Eater father got off with naut but five years in Azkaban and your whore of a mother got off with nothing. Nothing at all.

Malfoy's fist swung, but Theo caught his hand before it could collide with the Ravenclaw's face, muttering something to the blonde.

Luna tapped her younger housemate on the shoulder from behind him and he turned around impatiently.

"What do you _want_, Lovegood?" he demanded and I saw McGonagall finally making her way over to the small gathering, fighting to get passed a few students who'd gotten up to see better.

Luna wrinkled her nose cutely, holding up a polite finger, requesting a moment and he scoffed, shifting his weight as she took a gulp of the pumpkin juice that was in the goblet she'd brought with her. She swirled it around in her mouth for a second before spitting it all over the Ravenclaw's face and chest.

I clapped my hands to my mouth, following Blaise over to the group where he immediately headed towards when I released him in my surprise.

And then the giggles started at the absolutely appalled look that had taken place on the Ravenclaw's face. Laughter grew louder, and Blaise and I reached Malfoy and Luna at the same time McGonagall did.

"That is _enough_, Mr Murray!" she exclaimed loudly, flicking her hands every which way and looking quite like she didn't know quite how to handle the situation. "My office. _Now_."

At the dangerous tone in her voice, the Ravenclaw boy said nothing and turned on his heel and striding out of the Great Hall, presumably heading towards the Headmistress' office. McGongagall gestured for Flitwick to follow her, probably so he could reprimand the student of his house with her and he jumped to his feet, scurrying after her in efforts to keep up with her angry gait as she stormed out of the Great Hall after the sixth year.

"Luna!" I exclaimed, stepping towards her and being loud enough to draw the attention away from Malfoy and Blaise who were conversing in very low, very rapid murmurs. "That was brilliant, Luna," I said cheerfully, half laughing as I pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and half-hugging her as she smiled distantly and gave me a vaguely curious look.

"What was?" She asked quietly as we stepped away from Blaise and Malfoy, drawing even more attention to us as they made their way to the Slytherin girls who were half standing with expressions of varying concern on their pretty faces. Luna and I walked bit obnoxiously back over to Ginny who was also in a state of half standing, half sitting, watching with wide eyes.

"Hey, Granger!" I heard coming from the Hufflepuff table and with a quick glance back I noticed it was Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"What?" I said a bit sharper than probably needed, but he didn't shy away.

"Did you really defend the Malfoys in the trial?"

I scoffed disbelievingly. "Of course I did."

"Why?" another person's voice rang out and eyes swiveled back to me as I furrowed my eyebrows, mostly for effect.

"They're innocent," I replied finally, even though their case was so unusual because they were both innocent and not. I didn't want to get into that. My tone clearly ended the impromptu question session because no one else dared to shout out something to me.

Finally reaching Ginny, I shuffled Luna into Blaise's vacated seat and sat down next to her, keeping my back squared and my head held up high as Ginny slowly slipped back into her Quidditch talk, clearly getting that I needed a subject change for the time being.

* * *

><p><strong>Right so I've got a couple things to say here this time.<strong>

**First and foremost would be that I'm going to be moving across the country in two (well, one technically, since it's one in the morning) days. That being said, that is the reason for my late update now, and will probably be the reason for another late update in the future while we get settled down and such. Be patient. I won't abandon this story, I just need internet and more hours in the day. Also, I've had finals. So there's that.**

**Second, Hermione doesn't actually have an eating disorder. I just wanted to get that out there before you all reviewed and asked me if she was in denial or whatever. Nothing more is there. It actually happens, when you eat less for a long time, it's harder to eat normal amounts for a while after. Your body is not used to it and what not. Don't worry, this isn't a Hermione Eating Disorder Story, because while those are very good if taken care of properly, I think this story has a very, um, well it's complicated enough.**

**That being said (did I already use that phrase in this A/N?), I know right now, the story seems all centered around the trial. I can safely assure you that it won't be. This is going to be fairly long (so beware) and I've got a vague idea of how I want it to go. Which brings me to the next point. From where I stand now, I can see two endings and one is happier than the other. Now, I'm all for the happy ending, but I also like realistic-ness. One is more realistic and bittersweet almost than the other. I don't usually take people's opinions into account for my stories (what I write is mine and if you don't like it then thanks for your time and have a nice life), but I am curious as to what people would rather see.**

**Last, and please don't think I'm being greedy or presumptuous or whatever, but I've recently glanced at my 'Legendary Story Stats' page and couldn't help but notice that while I have seventeen _ thousand_ hits on this story (which is actually so unbelievably mind-blowing and amazing), I have thirty three reviews. Now, don't get me wrong, I value each and every review I get and I do reply to them all (I've very recently figured out how to do it personally so I don't have to keep doing it at the beginning of the chapters if the person was logged in), I just...that's kind of disheartening. I'll probably keep writing it _anyway_, but I can't help but wonder, in the very insecure manner of most teenage girls, if my story is, well, bad. Like do people click on it, expecting something and then they're disappointed so they leave and don't review? Or do I just have a bunch of lazy readers? Because quite honestly, I'm a lazy reader (it's quite rare that I review anything), so I don't want to be hypocritical and demand reviews or anything, I'm just...concerned. Pfft. That right there, this last paragraph is a jumbled mess of insecurities and parenthesis. Sorry 'bout that. You can ignore it if you want. I don't like asking for reviews much, it seems kind of desperate and such (NO OFFENSE TO ANYONE WHO DOES ASK FOR REVIEWS, THIS IS MORE OF A PERSONAL THING) but...whatever.**

**I'm done, I swear. I'll work on getting the next chapter out as soon as I possibly can, and you are all awesome, especially if you actually read through all of that monster of an author's note. Uh, I hope you enjoyed this. I had something else to say, actually, but that's okay. I'll remember and put it in the next A/N. Bye! :)**

**PS: Sorry for the double email if you got that. I was just fixing something. :)**


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